


Custody Of My Mind (COMM)

by ox6moron



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adoption, Aftermath of Torture, Aftermath of Violence, Alternate Universe - Burlesque Club, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Arguing, Asexual Character, Betrayal, Binge Drinking, Blood and Violence, Custody Arrangements, Custody Battle, Developing Friendships, Domestic Violence, Drugs, Eating Disorders, Edge Lord, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, England (Country), Expatriate Sirius Black, F/F, F/M, Foster Care, France (Country), Français | French, Friendship, Gay Sex, Genderbending, Greenhouses, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, LGBTQ Character, Lesbian Sex, M/M, Meme lord, Mentions of Cancer, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Minor Character Death, Minor Original Character(s), Mutual Pining, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Original Character(s), PTSD Fulvia, Past Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Sirius Black and Remus Lupin Raise Harry Potter, Slow Burn, Threats of Violence, Trans Female Character, Trans Male Character, Tropes, Underage Drinking, Underage Driving, Underage Drug Use, Underage Smoking, Weed, binge smoking, comm, custody of my mind, drama queen harry potter/marigold potter, emo draco malfoy/fulvia malfoy, enemies to friends back to enemies to friends to lovers, repeating a year, wlw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:34:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 47,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25269190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ox6moron/pseuds/ox6moron
Summary: What if Harry had been raised by Sirius and Remus after the death of his parents? What if Draco truly showed his emotional issues/traumas coming form the mental/physical violence he's been bearing all those years from his household, mostly from his father? What if there were traumatic events that changed the situation of Draco? What if they were to be in a modern AU? What if both of them, Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy, were to be genderbended. What if they went through a really slow burn with a enemies to friends back to enemies back to friends to lovers trope? Jk, haha, unless......******"To me,  it's as they speak a foreign language, one that I can't comprehend.""And yet they're not speaking mutual respect for boundaries and personal space.""Fuck off, Malfoy. No one asked you to come here and remind me of every single flaw that I possess. Leave me alone. They all do anyway.""Fuck you. Stop being such a drama queen, you had one fight with your precious little best friends. Take this or I'll start it myself.""Watever. Leave me alone."
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Lavender Brown/Parvati Patil, Luna Lovegood/Ginny Weasley, Seamus Finnigan/Dean Thomas, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 14
Kudos: 10





	1. The new student

**Author's Note:**

> Spotify playlist of the work https://open.spotify.com/playlist/12H9fK8uZqgwLWLKpgTTCF?si=sAEL-TYDSQGxweo2ghr0rA

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An introduction to the Gryffindors friendship dynamic with a cherry on top being the new student :)

She was closing the door of her locker, sighting from exhaustion, and in the reflexion of the mirror, she saw the usually vivid and glimmering green of her eyes tarnished by the effort. Her dark wavy hair was as messy as she’d just walked straight out of a storm. The practice had been pretty tough, and as it was a “back-to-training-after-3-months-of-being-a-lazy-moist-bun-of-bread” kind of training, she would probably pass out soon, every muscle of her body aching like crazy.

Every year, in September, she was in awe by the slump of her physical capacity. How could she end the track season in such a good shape back in June, and be this weak once back to school?! Plus this year was important, the spring sports meetings would take place here for the first time in 10 years. 

Anyway, the chatter of the cloakroom brought her back in the present, and for reasons; the conversations had drifted from how everybody was dead-ass beaten by the exercises to what people had been doing during holidays, and finally to what was in the back of every single student’s mind since the 2nd of September, aka, the non-presence of a certain Malfoy.

It was sure disturbing, seeing Malfoy’s pack without their chief, their leader, their guru or whatever Malfoy was to them.

She would be lying if she told she didn’t think about this at least once a day, but however, the school ground was calmer since no fight had been witnessed between the two of them, so basically none at all.

With Malfoy not being missing, the first years were not traumatised yet. They knew what to expect by now, hearing all sorts of evil tales coming from the older years.

Meanwhile, the gossips about Malfoy’s disappearance got louder and significantly wilder.

Once she’d be in an arranged marriage with one random North Country prince. Once she’d be abducted by aliens. Once transformed into a banshee and went to scare the men all over the country.

Anyway, enough about Malfoy. Back to the important matter.

Today was Friday the 6th, almost 11:45 am by now. As her teammates were getting out of the cloakroom, she followed them and headed towards her common room and her dorm.

The seventh years’ dorms had 5 beds in each. She was sharing hers with one of her best friend, Hermione Granger, and three other of her friends, Lavender Brown, Parvati Patil and Fay Dunbar.

While heading toward her tower, she unwillingly listened to some new fresh gossips about Malfoy.

A fifth year was assuring Malfoy had left Hogwarts for good, whereas a sixth year swore she could sense Malfoy’s ghost every night in their common room hunting down the ones who didn’t behave properly and shamed the name of the Slytherin house. But what struck the brunette the most was what a boy had said – he should know, his father work at the Foreign Office with Malfoy’s father – something about Malfoy losing some of her hair and that he didn’t know the reason of it. She imagined for a second the untouchable white-blonde girl finally reaching the human level of stress and losing hair from it.

God might exist after all. She laughed at this thought.

Once she entered her dorm’s room, she hurried herself to pack away her stuff because she could easily picture Hermione’s scold for letting their room stinky and messy after the training.

She changed in her uniform and tried to arrange her hair which was more of a fur than proper hair. She took off her lenses after a quick shower and put the old round glasses back on her nose. She then looked at her reflexion in the mirror; her mid-thigh length skirt was a bit crinkled, she wore high socks in a pair of faded red Converses, her white shirt had the three first buttons opened – she didn’t like it when it was almost tight around her breast, so she always wore oversized button shirts she messily tucked in her skirt. The thin and long black robe they had for when the weather was pretty warm fell just over her ankles whereas others had them around their calf length. Damn her shorty-blood.

She left the room and headed to the Great Hall for lunch.

As she walked down the corridors near Dumbledore’s office, she heard the harsh and loud noise of a door slamming shut, and just had the time to catch a glimpse of a dark silhouette before bumping into it. The shock was such that she fell to the ground straight on her butt. Artistic curses escaped from her mouth as she mechanically searched for her glasses that had fell off somewhere.

_Van Gogh’s ear, I need to stop pulling a Velma every time I lose them._

“Tsk... careful!” spitted words coming from the other person’s mouth while roughly helping her to get back on her feet by raising her up by the arm as if she weighted nothing – which last time she checked, was very not the case.

She watched – tried to watch – the person walk away in a limping demeanor, and without her glasses on, she could only see a slander, all black dressed, ivory skinned human form putting back their hood on and getting away from her.

She eventually recovered sight by founding her glasses near a wall, and she was at the Great Hall entry, she was about to look for her friends but a voice speared her the attempt.

“Mari! Over there!”

She turned her head in the shout’s direction, and saw her friends already settled down at one of the Gryffindor’s table. She walked toward them and joined the conversation already going on while taking some food from the plates and putting it on her tray, something about the next and very first test in chemistry class.

“So, how was the practice?” She left her eyes from her plate and saw the sly smile Ron wore across the table, drawing her aside the conversation.

“Well, maybe you’d know if you actually came you impertinent fool-born horn-beast” she responded with a cold smirk on her lips as it was the most natural thing to say on a Friday afternoon.

The ginger boy abruptly backed away, a hand on his heart and a false expression of shock and surprise, gasping really loudly, “Holly fuck! Marigold Jaime Potter, how dare you,” He looked at Dean, next to him and put his hands on the boy’s hears, “and in front of the baby!?! Don’t you have a heart, you git peasant?”

Dean raised his hand in victory, “Damn right, I’m baby.” His fluttering eyes mocking his boyfriend, Seamus, across the table.

“Awww, I’m so sorry.” She laughed, falsely desolate, “Might be because I belong with the cheese eating surrender monkeys. It is known fact they don’t have any manners, neither do I, I guess.”

“Are you for real?!” now Ron was snickering, “I only told you this one time and never used it since! I saw it in a ‘how to call French people for fun article’??? I was 12?! Will this grudge take you hostage of any common sense?!?”

Hermione and Seamus rolled their eyes.

Before Marigold could answer anything, Hermione was joining their childish argument with a shouting-whispering annoyed tone, “Gosh, please stop being so loud,” Exasperation left her mouth, “Are you two?!”

“Well, on a worth scale, actually, yes,” answered Marigold with a bright and wry smile, turning toward the longer haired girl at her right, adding on a peace sign “I have self-esteem issues.”

She heard the chuckles from both Dean and Seamus while Ron was hiding his smile behind his hand.

Hermione – the only person mildly concerned about that comment – was rolling her eyes, again, saying nothing.

Marigold chose the just new silence to start another conversation.

“Do you know anything about a potential new student at Hogwarts?” she asked innocently, playing with the food in front of her.

“Well, the first years apart, I didn’t hear about anyone being a new student, if it’s what you mean. Also the few students that failed their seventh year and are retaking their year... such as Cormac,” replied the other girl, while the boys settled for a ‘No❤.’

“Why though,” asked Dean, “you saw someone interesting?” he added a wink and heavy eyebrows wiggles at his implication, seeing directly through her.

A little shade of pink was now darkening Marigold’s cheeks, her brows furrowing in silent protestation. She opened her mouth, preparing an excuse, but she didn’t even have the time to think of something.

“Fuck, you totally met someone!” exclaimed the dark skinned boy, rising from his seat in excitement. Now, everybody around the table was focused on the next word the jet-black haired girl would pronounce.

“Well, it’s not a proper meeting actually,” she searched her words and added “more of a ‘you’re-in-my-way-move-or-face-the-consequences-of-the-collision-thanks-to-the-gravitation-law’ kind of meeting, so...”

“So we can say that you fell... for them...” said Seamus with a wide smug smile while he was putting Marigold’s glasses on his nose, Ron and Dean imitated a rock band scream _*YEEEEAAAAAAAHH*_ in the background while Hermione rolled her eyes for the umpteenth time today.

Seamus was known for his usual unparalleled clumsiness and his discreet personality. They also knew he was king of bad puns and would encourage him even more if they could.

Neville just joined the Great Hall and came across the room to meet his loud friends at the Gryffindor’s table while Marigold claimed back her glasses, her deadpanned look still on her face.

“Hey guys, what’s up? Who made a really bad pun?!” taking his professional voice and a serious look Neville added “With the look on your face Mari, I can tell it’s at least a six out of eight on the bad-meme-lord-pun scale. And more importantly who’s the terrorist?”

“Oh thanks my lord! The Messy came to save us! And I swear you don’t want to know. Please let’s talk about anything else; I can literally sense my brain cells fleeing far from this room.” urged Hermione, and then added “so where were you?”

He sat next to Marigold, also taking a plate of food. “I was in the greenhouses... taking care of the plants... kinda...” he smiled awkwardly at Marigold, her eyes dripping pure malice at the information.

“Well,” she answered, “it is what it is. Are they doing well? The plants, I mean”, a faked innocent interest sprouting on her face.

“I _swear_ that if you get caught-”

“We won’t ‘Mione, don’t worry.” Marigold smiled.

Then Neville followed, speaking softly, “Of course there’re always tiny risks, but we took enough precautions in order to not being caught.”

“Plus, I told Nevs to blame it all on me if we were to get caught and all.”

“If you say so...” Hermione still had doubts about their plan but never mind; she’d tried to prevent them long enough and it was not her problem anymore after 3 years of long arguments, she wasn’t their mother after all.

“You were not all against that this summer at my godfather’s.” responded Marigold, smiling devilishly.

“It was different back then!” she looked offended and ashamed, “It was summer time, and your uncle lives in France. Not in this very castle that represent education and law.”

The boys followed the conversation as some Roland Garros tennis’s exchanges.

“So? France doesn’t change a thing; it does not make it less illegal.” Marigold had a point and she knew it, “At least here we know how it’s made and all you see?”

“Don’t ever complain to me if something goes wrong.” sighed Hermione.

“We won’t.” said at the same time both Neville and Marigold.

Some Gryffindors joined their spot, including Luna, glued to Ginny as always, so they changed the subject, knowing the disapproval of this latter.

Marigold was head of the track team. Ron and Ginny were part of said team while Seamus was in another athletic field. They saw each other very often.

Next Friday, the 13th, some sort of clubs’ presentations would take place, introducing clubs to be part of once the classes ended.

This year, their athletic team would win the ‘unofficial’ competition about who would have the most inscriptions. 

As always the seventh years in charge of the winning club would have to organise a party with the other houses’ seventh years, it was the pride of said club.

So the conversation around the table drifted towards the entire organisation needed for next Saturday. How they’ll have to go to Hogsmeade to buy supplies on Saturday morning and all the other things they would have to get. They were still talking about it after leaving the Great Hall and going to the Gryffindor’s common room.

Luck was on their side thanks to Malfoy’s disappearance, the ballet club wouldn’t have many members promoting it – Dean didn’t like to be part of the event even though his level was more than decent – Malfoy could inspire fear but at the same time admiration due to her ironical grace, so she was a good member, if not the best dancer, she surely attracted a lot of people.

At this thought, Marigold wondered off the current conversation and went to focus on the plausible reasons why Malfoy still hadn’t show her ‘gracious’ person in one week now.

Ron and Hermione were framing her sides on one of the couch

“What you thinking ‘bout?” Ron had startled her with his mouth full of snacks.

“Huh, nothing specific.” Marigold sighed.

“Don’t tell me you miss her...”

Her best friends had not missed her eyes unwillingly searching for someone in the course of the past few days.

“What? Who? No, I don’t, I wasn’t even-”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, you miss her. I can’t believe-”

“Ron, do you ever listen?! I do not miss her!” she said abruptly, “I was just wondering what in the name of Dio Brando could have happen to her for not being at Hogwarts and show to everybody her stupid superiority,” she blurted out, “Plus I’m worrying because she didn’t post anything on her instagram page since the beginning of august. And-”

“Awww, so you’re worrying now? Gosh you totally miss her.”

“Hermione you’re no help right now...” said Marigold with an afflicted tone, turning towards her other best friend.

“It is not _me_ who stalk her instagram page non-stop. I’m witnessing it every morning and every night though and it is really sad I have to say.”

Before the cornered girl could answer, Ron followed, “Wait-wait-wait, you follow her on instagram?! Like with your main account and all?!”

Marigold locked her eyes down to her feet, little shades of red darkening her face and hears, her glasses getting steamed by her exasperate breath.

“For your information, she followed me back okay?! Also it’s all about her professional pictures, so I follow her just because I appreciate the modelling company she works with, and the pictures quality you see. I couldn’t care less about her personal pictures. Because they take extra care finding some new way of playing with the shades and the filters and it’s really interesting how-”

“And I’m sure that if I look in the list of the people you follow, I will find at least one more account of their models-”

_Touché_

_“_ And you know what, that’s what I’ll do now if you don’t have any objections.”

She turned towards Ron and took his phone from his hands faster than anybody ever had in order to avoid a public shaming session.

She looked at Hermione and said above the ginger boy’s noises of protestation, “You know what, maybe it’s not only for the model company, but don’t they say, stay closer to your enemies or something?”

“I’m cool with you convincing yourself this way; I support you in your denial stage.” Hermione gestured a raising fist to prove her point.

“Thanks Mio-. Wait what?!” She looked at her traitor of a friend who was smiling angelically.

“Aren’t you supposed to be on my side?! You know sister-code and all?”

“And I do, I told you, I support you.” always with a gentle smile on her lips.

Marigold made a loud noise of exasperation, left the couch, and went in the direction of her dorm. She heard in the background her best friends shouting their love for her and coming after her.

Once in her room, she went directly on her bed and crashed face first, moaning/screeching as loudly as she could.

“Alright in there?”

She rolled on her back at the sound of Hermione’s voice but kept her eyes shut.

“Leave me alooooone. I’m too busy trying feeling sorry for myself.” she sighed.

“Hey, no need to be this desperate you Drama Queen. I just wanted to check if your ego weren’t hurt too badly.”

“Ha ha, I’m so dead right now,” she responded, deadpan “no, more seriously, my ego is still there but I had to negotiate with her for that.”

She felt the bed subsiding under the weight of another body.

“Self care™?”

“Self care™.” She opened her eyes while turning her head and saw Hermione lying on the bed mirroring her, fondly smiling at her.

“You know we love you Mari, even when you’re trying to persuade yourself you’re not _that_ obsessed by Malfoy’s existence.”

“Gosh, have mercy, leave me alone. Please.” She groaned, putting the palms of her hands on her ears.

“No I cannot,” Hermione stiffened her position as she took her serious voice, “I’ve been sent to earth to mentally torture you, and you know it.” At that, Hermione added a devilishly, cartoonish like laugh.

Marigold shoved her dormmate with her feet trying to throw her off from the bed, making Hermione falling down.

“Heeeyyy! If I’m trying to cheer you up; I’m not supposed to end on the ground you know?”

“HA! Are you sure about that?!” Marigold laughed openly.

“Yeah I think so! And now you have free time to think about your mysterious lover. _Wink-wink_.”

“Did you just say ‘wink wink’ out loud? Ron is a bad influence after all.”

Hermione looked at her and rolled her eyes, again.

“Gosh I totally forgot about him... What a shame. He was so cool I swear ‘Mione! If only you could have seen him.” She left the bed and joined Hermione on the floor with a sigh.

“So, it _is_ a boy you think?”

“Yeah kinda... he was pretty tall and sturdy, I mean I was literally on the floor when I bumped into him. All in black and pretty pissed off.” She said while walking across the room and packing up some stuff in a bag.

“If you say so... you’re going somewhere?”

She stopped to look at her watch and answered, “Yeah, it’s almost time to go back in class and I have to go to work just after classes end.”

“They sure know how to rule a business; I mean it’s pretty early in the year. Do they know you just came back to school?! Well do they know you’re still in school?”

“You ask me the same thing every time, and yes, they know I’m still in school, well some of them. And, yes, they were also aware about this fact when they hired me three years ago Mione,” she threw the other girl a look over her left shoulder and kept talking, “and they are taking me back early because there’s a lack of employees, that means more money for me. That’s a win-win case scenario.” She said the last words with a big grin across her face. 

Hermione sighed, then mumbled “Come on; let’s go back to class then.”

They both walked back in the common room and joined their friends before going to their respective courses.

artbreed + editing by me on photoshop :) also add a pair of glasses 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this first chapter can be awkward but I wrote it again and again so many times ughh. I hope for now it's satisfying enough guys! It's my first work and it means a lot to me so sometimes I'm glitching and go an hiatus. Also I know many won't even reach these notes because the genderbend is a no-no, which I understand. I'm happy enough to have any 'hit' so thank you for reading and I hope you'll stick around <3


	2. Just like Iphigenia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fulvia's mind is precious but fragile and fickle. 
> 
> She faces injustice her own way. With bitterness and sadness.

Life sucked.

Not about any particular event. Just in general.

At least that was what she was thinking right now.

No, scratch that, what she had thought the majority of her life actually.

If she were in a movie and had said that nothing could have gone wronger and then rain would have dramatically poured from the sky and soaked her, well, even _that_ wouldn’t have be a worse scenario actually.

Maybe, if she asked _really_ gently, she would convince her brain to just, turn off or something, so she wouldn’t have to witness the shitty mess that was her life anymore.

She admitted she was far from being an angel or even a good soul or any other silly things like that, but she surely didn’t deserve that. Or at least wasn’t yet aware of the reasons why.

Maybe she could hire someone on the dark web to shoot her, or just drown in the Great Lake, hoping they wouldn’t find her corpse before ages.

More than that, she couldn’t find a single word to put on her current state of mind. Maybe disgust or hatred.

No, it was beyond hatred.

Beyond everything else in fact.

Even if human evolution had done a lot since its first discoveries – s/o to Darwin – they didn’t have invented yet a language to describe the way she felt at that very moment.

She felt like yelling, screaming, crying, shouting at the top of her lungs.

She felt like destroying cities by the shed of a single tear.

But unfortunately, she couldn’t risk breaking her mask. Breaking down and let out all her bottled up emotions would associate her as a hysterical human being and she wouldn’t – she couldn’t – allow that.

It was no emotion at all in fact; she could give an identity to what she felt, as a person, as an entity; a shadow lurking, hovering at all time over her frame.

Like a cold embrace, but at the same time, the warmest thing she had ever felt deep in her guts.

It was dissociating her by the insidious sensation of madness.

How could she be so full of it and yet feeling this empty, like a vessel filled up, submerging with void.

How could she even allow something to make her feel this way, wasn’t she master of her body and mind after all?

She felt pitiful.

_“-foy?”_

How could she even dare to-

“ _Hydra_?”

“Don’t call me that.” Harsh, cold voice.

She snapped back from her thoughts. This single word, this awful name she was given in order to continue their silly names’ tradition, brought her back in the present and reminded her person she was in the room with.

The old man she faced wasn’t disturbed by the severe tone the young woman just used on him, or at least didn’t act like it. At the contrary he felt sorry for her.

“Pardon me Miss Malfoy; I know you do not like to be called by this name. It is just that I could not get your attention by any other way.”

“Hm, sorry...” the end of this last word died in her throat, she wasn’t used that much to say it.

She hadn’t been raised to say it.

At that she realised how much of a lost cause she was.

When she thought about it, her name itself was from the start an act of misfortune.

Hydra Lucia Malfoy.

The second one was just another way for her father to leave his prints on her, what a distasteful mockery.

The very first one, on the other hand, represented a family tradition, her mother. It used to carry love and tenderness. But she would always remember the look of terror, the lack of understanding, the pity in her mother eyes when she had said her name for the very last time two years ago.

From that moment on, her friends would call her Fulvia to her request. A name somebody she hadn’t disappointed fully yet had given her when she was younger. 

“So, as I said, you will have to choose a new activity or course in order to replace the ballet classes that you were taking until now. Mr. Malfoy has been clear about this.”

He was looking at her directly in her eyes, while the bright blue of his expressed openly compassion, sadness and something else she couldn’t put in words.

How desolating; she used to see this look only on the features of her mother’s interlocutors.

She realised time has come it was her turn to be trapped in her father’s web, like her mother before her. And, for now, there was no way out of it.

She too, would get sacrificed if need, no doubt about it.

“I would recommend a course where you can sit or at least not moving around too frequently, given your current state.” His look slipped down, and even if his office’s desk blocked the view, she understood the old man was referring to her legs.

She looked down at her left foot in turn and repressed a thrill at the sight of her ankle support.

She made herself more comfortable in her seat.

“It seems wise indeed.” She dryly answered while arching one of her perfect drawn eyebrow, but curbed the movement once realising she had to stop acting like a mighty cold bitch, in other words, like her father. 

Dumbledore wasn’t responsible for all that crap; contrariwise, he tried to help her finding a way out of it.

The old man joined his hands and bent a little over the desk and with emotion in his voice said, “Listen, I know it is difficult for you, and believe that I have done everything in my power to impede against Mr. Malfoy’s requests,” He waited to catch the girl’s eyes and kept going. “We value you as an excellent student no matter what, we know that what is happening to you is unfair,” she softly scoffed, “it is our top priority to protect our students, but we cannot go against his choices about you from a legal point of view. Not without proof that is. I know you refused us many times, but the offer to seek professional help from the social care still holds.”

After a blank of assimilation she sort of nervously chuckled and ignored the last remark, “He threatened you?! Like for real?”

“I would not put it like that.” Dumbledore’s face winced.

“And, like, if he doesn’t know that I still practice ballet? If we hide this fact from him?” she tried with a conciliatory tone and an awkward smile.

“As I demonstrated it to you, we cannot allow ourselves to take any risks. I am sorry Miss Malfoy, I really am.” The long silver bearded man tried a little, still encouraging smile, “He agreed on letting you your prefect title...”

“Yay, that’s great and all but what about my passions, my grades? Even my dorm?! Where will I sleep?? Do I have to agree on everything and letting my mouth shut?!” she was talking with more emotions that she ever shown in front of the head master, she began to stand on her right foot – saving her left one – putting her hands flat against the desk with a wild energy she couldn’t master anymore, “How can I accept to be treated as a beast, a plagued person?!

The old man stayed still as his jaw clenched a little. He felt his heart sink in with compassion for the poor girl in front of him but tried to not express any of that because he knew better than to pity her; the young person was as always the embodiment of pride, even in this situation. He knew her pride was a protecting shield from the rest of the world but unfortunately only a thin layer remained now.

“Please, I can only advise you not to focus too much on your restrictions,” he hardened his tone to cover the noises of protest that came from the girl, “and to keep concentrating during your classes. We have several people you can openly talk about it with and also numbers of them outside the school ground.” He rose from his seat and directed toward his office’s door.

“If you need anything else, know that you are welcome to consult me, you will always be welcome. If not, then I will see you back on the next week Friday. Take care during this week. ” He opened it and his look implied her to leave.

That was all. He was dismissing her.

She shoved her rucksack on her shoulders, elegantly stood up trying not to put too much of her weight on her left foot, and went for the door, keeping her head high and straight, strands of white blonde hair falling before her grey eyes.

She tried to remove them and when her hand ended the contact with the sleek texture much sooner than what she expected, she hurried herself to put the hood of her back sweater on.

When she stood at Dumbledore’s stand, she was brutally startled by his gentle touch on her shoulder.

He excused himself right away putting his hand back along his body, “Sorry, my bad... just...” she looked up at him, a bit lost by the contact. “We, the educational team, may not be able to do anything against _that_ ,” he took a deep breath, not sure if he would step over the boundaries the girl established, “but you are in position to do something, if you want. _You_ can. And do not be afraid, people are here to support you. Don’t hesitate to reconsider any help we’re offering you.”

She thought about her best friend and her godfather, what Dumbledore had told her about them being informed of the situation earlier, just before she snapped out from the sudden stream of thoughts that had filled her.

She left the room and headed toward the corridors without a word.

_You, can._

The phrase echoed in her head while passing again and again the exchange she just had in her head. Blaise had also told her so.

Maybe she should do something after all.

_No._

She could not tarnish more the reputation of her family than she already did.

She had to face the reality she was now in. Had to realise what her father had done by talking to Dumbledore, added at what he did to her the last time she had seen him.

She hurried her mind to wonder about something else. With her left ankle damaged, she couldn’t walk as fast as she usually did, she felt like it was taking eternity, and yet she didn’t even reach the main door of Dumbledore’s ward.

She finally reached the last door and extracted all of her anger in the dry movement to close it, producing a loud noise of satisfaction. She turned right away with impulse but something brutally stopped her.

She tried to balance herself as best as she could not to fall down, taking few steps back, unwillingly putting her weight on her left foot.

The girl glanced down at the mass and saw a sort of black mess belonging to an olive skin, which itself belonged to a girl searching the floor from what she could see.

She knew she had half the responsibilities for this interruption of thoughts but couldn’t help the not so gentle words and tone that came with the pain in her leg. She still reached for the girl’s arm and help her to stand, but regretted it in the very moment she did.

In front of her, few inches from her person, two bright green eyes closely met hers.

_Fuck._

_Potter._

The gaze aloof but still staring right into her eyes.

The temporary disabled girl had tried to avoid meeting other human beings all morning long, now she had to bump into one and it had to be fucking Potter.

No more words were spoken.

She lifted her head, passed her hand to cast the hair away by habit but stopped the movement when she remembered there was nothing much to brush away and that she only meet a hood, tried to walk away as fast as she could, ignoring the ringing pain.

Ok done, shitty day.

Fuck this day, fuck this life, fuck the world.

This damned universe had betrayed her so many times she couldn’t believe there was still room in her heart to feel this disappointed. Still. There she was.

She went to the castle’s entrance, took a taxi to Hogsmeade’s station, then the train back to the King’s cross’s one and, several hours later, reached the car of Blaise’s mother who was waiting for her to come back home. All of that while her brain was processing the shitty day she just had, listening to music her earphones deep down in her hears. 

Once she entered the huge house, she went in her room – she’d appropriated one of the numerous free rooms and made it hers – crashed on the bed and sent a text to her best friend saying she was _home_.

She rolled on her back, put her arms before her shut eyes, and after waiting few seconds of pure silence, released wild burning tears and let them running free on the bare field that were her cheeks.

She tried to empty her mind but no could do.

The words her father used on her, the violence he’d used against her, the rush of events that had happened, for weeks now, just because of him – no, because of her.

Everything flooded the rest of sanity and pride she had left, she couldn’t accept to keep it silent any longer. She let her sobs out and louder each time for the first time in her life. She accorded herself to feel something; too bad it had to be pain.

Mrs. Zabini appeared at the door, hearing the noises the girl was making, with a tray of food she quickly put on the dressing table.

In a significant squeak she sat on the bed next to the weeping girl that was now in foetal position with only her shod feet off the mattress.

She fondly patted her back whispering calm and reassuring words and let the girl take refuge in her arms.

A veil of sadness lodged in her heart, Mrs. Zabini knew the girl for a long time – she used to often shelter her – and was desolated by the fact no one deserved anything of what was happening to her at all.

She waited for the young girl to lock her pale grey eyes, redden by the crying, in hers and added, “You know, I could stay here with you tonight-”

“No, please go; it would only make me feel worse to know you’ve missed a meeting already by my fault.” 

“Are you sure? I can call someone to keep you company. Blaise wouldn’t you to be alone.”

“Yeah, I feel better now, thank you. No need to worry Blaise.”

“You didn’t tell him?”

She only replied with a guilty smile.

*

When her phone buzzed, several hours had passed.

Mrs. Zabini was gone, and the girl had removed her socks and her ankle support before letting a track of clothes leading to the ensuite bathroom.

Then she had entered the filled up bathtub, as softly as she could; her brain was disoriented by the crying.

Her head hurt.

She had taken a great gulp of air before sliding underwater, only few bubbles eventually escaping from her nostrils. Once reaching the point where the pit of her stomach curled on itself and her mind felt dizzy, she had resurfaced, taking even a greater inspiration.

She had then immersed herself again and again.

She had stayed in the water, apathetic, letting it cool down until freezing, repressing shivers, letting her fingertips to wrinkle, her mind blank.

When she had finally gone out, she mechanically wrapped her body in a towel and attempted to swab the water away, rubbing her skin red.

After putting a large shirt – borrowed from Blaise’s wardrobe – and her pants, she’d sat on her bed, removing the covers, crossing her legs and massaged her left foot and ankle.

She exhaled a long and meaningful sigh and lowered her upward body stretching out her arms.

Then she felt the mattress move, a new text appeared on the lock screen.

Said screen displayed 01:27am and the text was from a certain Sparkle Factory™.

The girl told herself that he might has come back in his dormitory from the pub they usually went on some Friday nights. She lurked in the blankets and took her phone. 

[9:12PM] **FoolRoad :** i’m home.

[01:27AM] **Sparkle Factory™** **:** glad to hear it. Sflr we were watching a movie and my phone was dead.

[1:29AM] **FoolRoad :** np. you didn’t go to Hog's Head?

[1:29AM] **Sparkle Factory™ :** didn’t have the heart to without you since you’re the one setting the fun. not cool if you ain’t there xxx.

She didn’t know what to feel at that moment. She knew it was a false plea but couldn’t repress the first little slice of humanity coming back since a long time by the feeling of fondness she had for the boy and the old goof memories he just brought back in her mind. Unfortunately, it didn’t last long.

[1:39AM] **Sparkle Factory™ :** wanna tell me how did it go w/ Gandalf the White today? ain’t gonna pressure you or anything if you don’t wanna...

[1:43AM] **FoolRoad :** it went fine i guess.

[1:45AM ] **FoolRoad :** well nothing new i just had the confirmation that he was a huge fucker.

[1:52 AM] **Sparkle Factory™ :**... yeah that was kinda stated on his birth certificate??? i excepted something i didn’t know.

_What a dork._

She knew he tried hard to play down her actual situation.

[2:13AM] **FoolRoad :** he went to see the headmaster and told him (it was more like he threatened him tbh) i forever was forbidden to practice ballet at school, to sleep/stay with everyone in my dormitory like i used to do until now and like idk after everything he’d already done to me ajdhdjhdrfjgvehbjdlkm fuck himmmmmm

[2:14AM] **:** but he agreed on letting my prefect title

[2:14AM] **:** i feel special

[2:19AM] **Sparkle Factory™ :** how touching of him

[2:22AM] **:** but more srsly whats his fucking prblm w/ you like dude chill this perfect girl is your only child. i can’t believe he’s acting like that towards you. i always had kinda respect for him like the strict minimum required because he made gold-and-pure-creature aka you, but you’re right fuck him. how come he can even ask that ?! don’t tell me Gandalf approved!!!

She knew he sugar-coated what he was saying, after all he was the one that had directly seen what Lucius Malfoy had done to her.

[2:23AM] **FoolRoad :** same. When i heard that it was like my consciousness had literally gone for 5 solid minutes

[2:24AM] **:** it’s more complicated than just agreeing. D told me he couldn’t/wouldn’t do anything against his choices because of the laws and like idk it seems legit so for now i guess i’ll live in a cupboard under some dusty stairs

[2:25AM] **:** shit for real i totally forgot to ask properly where i’d sleep during the school year!!!!

[2:26AM] **Sparkle Factory™ :** ok Vee calm down it’s gonna be alright I swear

[2:26AM] **:** cupboard under stairs?? who tf even does that??? i promise to never let you sleep in some broom closet or anything like that. i’d fight anybody who’d suggest such silly thing (ง'̀-'́)ง

She felt the corners of her own mouth rise and allowed herself to giggle, which was an odd feeling after the grief that dwelled in her body for so long.

[2:27AM] **FoolRoad :** tf it is?? lmfao is it supposed to show somebody fighting???

[2:27AM] **:** Anyway i’m counting on you and will forever be appreciative for the gesture. ttyl if you don’t mind i’m sooo tired. ily

[2:29AM] **Sparkle Factory™ :** fyi some kids were using it at school and i wanted to try.

[2:29AM] **:** I assure you to meet your entire expectations princess. Np ily too. Sleep tight _(:3」∠)_

[2:31AM] **FoolRoad :** sure you wanted to and stOP PLS THATS CREEPY AF

She silenced her phone by putting the ‘do not disturb’ mode after her last text, laid down her phone on the nightstand and adjusted her body in the no longer cool sheets.

She would have to come back to school and during the seven last days of ‘rest’ she’d woke up, showered, been forced to eat something by Mrs. Zabini, gone to re-education for her twisted ankle, been forced to eat again. And all over again each days until next Friday. The only peaceful moments being coming back home after the RE, taking her time walking down the streets, her head empty.

Again, artbreed plus editing on photoshop, like i did alllllll the piercings with only the mouse of my laptop bc i forgot my graphic tablet at home, anywayyyyy they loooooook fabulous i'm so proud !

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marigold's and Fulvia's pov will differ greatly. 
> 
> Fulvia can count on Blaise more than she can on herself. She doesn't like it too much though. She doesn't want to be a burder. 
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me, I hope you enjoy it! Don't be hesitate to let a comment or a constructive criticism :)


	3. Ascenseur Emotionel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new students get on the school grounds, well that's wat Marigold aka Captain Obvious thinks.

Only few knew the self-care routine Marigold had for her person. Not that it was something important or substantial to know. This knowledge just implied to be also aware of what made her take this special time. Indeed, apart from a closed group of individuals – in other word her friends – nobody knew about her side life.   
Naturally the school didn’t allow part time jobs.   
Moreover, one could think there wasn’t enough free time to properly attend a work and to financially rely on it – given it would be the only imaginable reason to get one in the first place at such young age. 

As for Marigold, her work shifts didn’t bother school schedule at all for it was essentially night shifts and she was pretty well paid – and her school fees were handled by her godfather.

Ron’s twin brothers, Fred and George, few years from now, had had her one of these professor’s magnetic cards that let you waltz in and out the school. 

She was free to come and go but remained extremely careful not being seen when she had to leave the school because of the prefects, but their guard duties ended before her return anyway. 

She hadn’t met anybody there in two years and she cherished the idea that this school year wouldn’t be any exception. She even achieved not to come face to face with Filch or his stupid cat. 

Anyway, back to her self-care routine. 

As the title indicated it, she followed the same actions in a precise order. 

First, she would cross the school fence by the east side when she was back from work, hiding from dorms’ windows, and she’d open the kitchen offices’ door with her card and sneak in. 

Once she’d close it, she would turn on the flashlight she kept in her rucksack for this purpose and would eat whatever she’d find as fruit or cereals or snacks, not too much of course, avoiding rising any suspicions. But her favourite was a bottle of whipped cream she hid in a cupboard with some strawberries she found in the fruit reserve. 

She couldn’t risk using dishes in fear of being busted and managed to keep everything clean.

There was a bit of shame passing through her in those moments, bringing her back to deep and dark moments when she used to suffer from more frequent binge eating episodes. 

Then, once the jet black haired girl was done with her business in the kitchen offices, she would lurk in the corridor toward the prefects’ bathroom – she weekly borrowed Hermione’s or Ron’s key pass – and after entering the vast room, enjoyed a pure moment of pleasure getting in the floral scented water of the enormous bath tub. 

Feeling the warmth of it flood around her ankle that gradually rose as she’d put her other foot and leg before sitting entirely in was a relief she waited for days. She’d always make a little prayer to any goodness listening about her friends then would never forget to thank them for their help and kindness. 

After a long week of boring classes and hard homework, it was all she could dream of. She would lay down a bit, letting the foam covering her up to her chin, the liquid diffusing heat as she let herself dive gently in a slow process that helped relax her muscles.   
After that, she would take her time removing the water from her body with a towel; softly brushing her skin with it, almost becoming caresses, fondles – way to pamper herself. 

She would put on what stood of PJ clothes – comfy booty shorts and a large T-shirt – then would pack up her things back in her bag, and would leave the room as quick as she’d came. 

She would try not to stumble and fall in the stairs – it was pretty dark and a flashlight would be giving her away too easily on that part of the castle – connecting with her dorms, and would reach her bed, putting down her stuff without any noise and would climb in her sheets to let herself being finally beat by tiredness. 

This night was not different.  
She had gone working earlier that day, but still came back around the same usual late hour and did all her planned routine before falling asleep. 

This first Friday night – Saturday morning in fact – of school was the beginning of a promising yet completely altered year, but she did not know that as she was dreaming of her dark-and-not-so-polite-mysterious-lover. 

*

The following week went by and Marigold didn’t rest at all, still her schedule was balanced. It was like 14% of track practice, 7% organising the next week soon-to-be-party – aka when her team would defo win – with buying all for the virgin cocktails and decorations and managing playlists, 13% procrastinating on her homework, 8% failing her chemistry class, 10% nailing her French and optional French classes, 6% following her general classes, 9% arguing more or less loudly with Ron and Seamus about some dumb memes in Hermione’s opinion, and of course, 33% deafening 24/7 her friends talking about her new crush and looking for him in the Great Hall or in the corridors. 

It was the second Friday since they came back to school; Neville, Luna and Ginny were eating at the Hufflepuf’s table so it was just the so called Golden Trio eating at the Gryffindor’s. 

She looked up from Malfoy’s Instagram page, nothing new since the last time she checked – and the nth times before. 

“Where the hell is Deamus? It’s meal time, not lick-my-butt-time; we were supposed to finish our last agreements on the lasts supplies we have to buy for tomorrow.”

“For the love of god, language! And don’t call them that.” 

“Yeah for fuck’s sake, Mari, language!”

Hermione threw them a dirty-pissed look before sliding back her eyes to her chemistry notes. She kept eating while explaining, “They’re probably settling the room for the party for what I know.” 

She waited a little then added not resisting at the urge to snipe at her, “It might be hard to be as thirsty as you but stop seeing sex implications everywhere please; I’m eating and I’m hungry, that would be a shame to change that.” 

Marigold didn’t react at her provocation; instead, she slip her gaze toward Ron who was slightly bent over his plate, mouth and cheeks full of food, a puzzled look in his eyes. 

With a bright grin she challenged him, whispering, “Twenty bucks they’re fucking right now.” 

She saw Ron’s interest flicker in his blue eyes, she knew his devotion for bets. He finished chewing and swallowing what was left in his mouth and sat straight on the Great Hall bench. He closed his eyes and answered in a Scottish accent. 

“I have great ‘faith in m’lady, if she assures they’re not proliferatin’, then, ‘tis way it is.” 

Both Hermione and Marigold scoffed at him. 

Nevertheless, he took advantage of the fact Hermione was bent toward her notes to discretely shake Marigold’s hand while whispering to her, “That’s on.” adding a wink. 

Smiling both devilishly, they went back at their plates and Marigold summed up the supplies they had to get tomorrow at Hogsmeade. 

Suddenly, the global hubbub began to tune down and there was only whispers, gasps and questions rising from tables to tables. The first years looked lost and searched around for answers as if they would float in the air, not understanding the sudden commotion. 

Both boys and girls were focused on something happening behind Marigold’s back – she was not facing the Great Hall’s doors. 

She didn’t seem to notice the bustle at first for all of her focus was on the new camera accessories she would soon buy with Ron’s money once the bet won. 

In front of her Ron had the face aghast and had stopped eating. She looked up and saw her best friend’s expression; he was pale and couldn’t hold his mouth shut. 

She switched to Hermione who wasn’t much more colourful than her boyfriend despite their obvious contrasting skin tones; the lips parted in a silenced ‘what’, her eyebrows frowning the same way as when she was in front of an unsolvable problem. Her eyes seemed to try managing the vision she had.

Once Hermione’s brown eyes came back to meet Marigold’s green ones, there was a sort of unspoken plea coming from her telling her friend not to look back and not taking any interest of whatever was happening just behind her back. 

Of course, it was more than enough to raise Marigold’s interest and make her wanting to urgently throw her head in the hot topic direction, to the point of breaking both her neck and back. But considering the warning expression of Hermione, she tried to act as disinterested as she could about it. 

She looked one last time in her friend’s eyes and with the help of her left hand settled on the wooden table, she span her upper body towards where everybody was looking. There was a bunch of Slytherins crossing the Great Hall toward their own table – maybe because of a chemistry AP course they had to eat after everybody or something. 

Nevertheless, Marigold’s friends seemed to have locked their eyes on a more precise point than just the Slytherin group, within the walking students more exactly. 

She found it, Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson and Theodore Nott; so she didn’t understand her friend’s reaction at first – but wait a minute – after analysing their body language, it wasn’t just a moving formation of three persons, they seemed to follow a new guy – his tie to the Slytherin colours – who was walking at the same pace, a little bit ahead of them. 

Which was strange from them, did they found a new god to worship between periods, or the four of them happened to walk in the same direction but, like, together? Because there was sure a sort of cohesion between the four of them. 

Even with the glasses help, it was hard to make out who was that person; there wasn’t so much hair and it was easy to establish his body shape. 

It was skinny – Marigold bet it was even skinnier without the uniform on, judging by the way the boy seemed to swim in his jumper worn over a button shirt, falling over the uniform trousers, a black robe flying behind from time to time. 

Said trousers covered kilometres of legs. He went to sit behind the Slytherin table, Marigold couldn’t see much, but enough to recognise that the length of them was quite impressive for such a small torso on the other hand. This boy would make jealous a whole bunch of girls with those proportions. At the bottom of the trousers a pair of chunky familiar black shoes let sight to black socks covering his ankles. But one of the ankles appeared to be larger than the other one. 

Something seemed off. Marigold couldn’t find what was supposed to be wrong but it didn’t felt right at that moment. 

The other three Slytherins sat down; Nott and Parkinson’s backs in her vision while the stranger would be facing her with Zabini next to her as Marigold was still turned toward their table. 

Unfortunately the skinny boy was sitting while facing down the table with her face, only his perfect light eyebrows and the straight line of a nose showing, a heavily ringed, fair-skinned hand covering/supporting half of his face. 

Marigold finally went back to her former position, facing her friends who were expectedly looking at her. 

The feeling of wrongness grew more and more by the look both Hermione and Ron wore; like worry-ness or apprehension. 

The Great Hall was still pretty silent and Marigold was about to ask her friend what bothered them when she heard it. 

The new boy might have wanted Zabini to pass him something, but anyway, the Slytherin dark-skinned boy had say it, and Marigold never hopped in her life for somebody to be more wrong. 

“Here, Fulvia.” 

It was like a silent bomb. 

It was like every single student in the big room had waited for him to confirm it. The pressure in the room dropped immediately. 

The initiation of what she intended to ask her friends died in her throat. She was now mirroring the former shocked expressions of her fiends few minutes ago with her own face. 

Ron talked first: 

“Oh, so you hadn’t noticed until now.” 

“Yeah, judging by how long you’ve been staring at her I also thought you had it figured out. But somehow, was too taken aback to act on it.” 

She couldn’t proceed what the Gryffindors were saying for all her focus was now on the element freshly discovered. 

Here was finally the reason for her bad feeling. 

Evident, after all, there would be no way for Zabini, Parkinson and Nott to follow another skinny legend. 

The length of the legs gave it away the most, Marigold knew few to one person only on earth with such long limbs, and the fair-ivory skin also was a good hint. But what could have been odd then for Marigold to not recognise Malfoy at first glance? 

Holy mother of Dora the Explorer!

It just hit her. And not like an apple falling down a tree and landing on her head. More like a semi truck running over her body. 

Not hesitating more, Marigold violently spun her body toward the Slytherins’ side of the room and couldn’t help but being shocked by the sight.

She now knew what was off the first time she tried to identify the boy, uh girl. 

Malfoy facing down the table, talking to her friends, but facing constantly down on purpose, had made it hard for Marigold to cross the silver eyes with her own. 

The green eyed girl was speechless. Something in her stomach broke and her insides filled up with something both freezing and burning at the same time, regardless of whatever had happened yesteryears. 

How to say it properly? 

It’s not that Malfoy’s hair was shorter, well it definitely was. But it was not in a bob or cute pixie way. 

There wasn’t so much hair at all actually. Shorter on the sides, gradually less and less shaved, like a sort of undercut, and plated back mainly on the top and a bit falling on the other side. 

Somehow, it suited her, well more than would a bob cut have but, anyway, that wasn’t the point and she didn’t bother acknowledging this thoughts of hers.

Recovering from the slight surprise that had took her words away, Marigold began to rise from her seat, making the bench screech in the process.   
Malfoy was here, in the Great Hall, across the room. She could totally walk to her and speak her mind about the last year’s events. 

“Mari, don’t do it please; you’re going to make a scene about nothing and it’ll be ridiculous.” Hermione, knowing what her friend was up to, had now grabbed her sleeve trying to physically convince her not to go further. 

“And what if I am, ridiculous I mean, since when do I care about people’s opinions.” She spited, keeping purposely the same low voice her friend had employed. 

“Fax.” Ron added with a compliance tone, while Hermione let go of her sleeve looking annoyingly back at her notes while sputtering words. 

With the more or less forced agreement of her friends, Marigold was about to walk towards the Slytherin’s table as she now stood by the other side of their table’s bench. A look in the Slytherins direction showed her that Malfoy had raised her head toward her person, bringing back those mixed feelings from earlier as they crossed each other eyes. 

Malfoy lost the grin she wore while talking to her friends. 

The burning sensation of discomfort won over the cold one but didn’t stop the goose bumps to invade Marigold’s skin. She didn’t know what the significations of her body’s reactions were, and she wasn’t in the right state of mind to read into it at the moment. 

Dumbledore suddenly began speaking after sharply showing up to his emplacement. 

It stopped her plan to make a scene in front of everybody somehow by confronting Malfoy, which Hermione was glad about. 

He described how all the students were expected to be in the hallways, where booths/sites showing would take place, and chose a new school option for the year. The presentation took ten solid minutes, which was a torture for the bespectacled girl who wanted so badly to explain herself to a certain white-blonde haired girl. The old professor sure took his time and when he was done, there wasn’t any track of a wild Malfoy in sight. She looked everywhere in vain; the white-blond girl was gone. 

She had seen the girl, and eventually convinced to herself there was no way the real Malfoy was back; she seemed to be her former self’s dusty ghost at most. 

On this thought, Marigold absently followed her friends out of the Great Hall to their common room and sat on their usual spot, sandwiched between her two best friends. She did not seem to be aware of the arrival of two more of her friends, even if she heard a background of a light chat going on.

“So now Malfoy is dead and in front of us was either a cousin of her that weirdly looks like her or she has been replaced by someone else, thus, in this case, she automatically joins Avril Lavigne in the stars’ cryptid team doubled by clones.” She blurted in an emotionless voice, interrupting the conversation. 

There was a blank. 

“So it’s true? We heard a bunch of students from all houses talking about her return, but I was not buying it. Guess the Ice Queen is back to form the Fucking Bitchy People coalition.” 

At that, all the heads but Marigold’s turned to Dean, intrigued by what the dark skinned boy had just said. She just laughed at the nick name that brought back memories. The boy explained to the other Gryffindors present on the couches and armchairs that the name was an invention from both Marigold’s and his during their work time, outside school. 

Anyway they were the Fucking Bitchy People, FBP for short. 

Theodore Nott was another matter, he was more of a true-lone-wolf and he usually came and went with the three Slytherins, not that she cared. 

“She could have stayed wherever the hell she was hiding at.” 

“Oh come on Mari, an entire year of school without the Fulviarigold drama would have killed you out of boredom, admit it.” 

She tried to look offended as much as she could with her face turning crimson at the girls’ name contraction. 

“How can you say that–” 

“With his mouth. Hah! Silly question.” 

She nastily scowled at Dean and Seamus for their interventions but they were too busy exchanging one of their full of pride glances to mind her, so Ron followed.

“I know what she did to you last year wasn’t fair nor cool but no need to wring her neck you know? Not in public at least. Too much witnesses...” He added softly, an expression of genuine wonder on his face. 

She turned to Ron, “Oh, so now I’m the one bullying her?! Fair?! Cool?! Yeah I recall that putting her tongue in my ex boyfriend’s was much more than that but go off I guess,” she stabbed her index in his chest, “And who are you to talk young man, weren’t one of my fellow comrades on our battle against the FBP?” after a moment she pouted: “She keeps ruining my life and I’m still the bad guy for you here guys. #betrayal.” 

It was Hermione turn to bring Marigold to face the reality. 

“Calm down, we never said that. But you have to accept it wasn’t even her fault, like, she didn’t do anything in fact. And you weren’t even in ‘love’ with him anymore; you just needed an occasion to ditch him and the fact he tried to woo Malfoy was your perfect occasion.” 

Before any response could cross her mind, the green eyed girl was cut by the entrance of another trio joining them in the Gryffindor’s Common Room. Luna and Neville sat on the only couch left, closing their circle.

“You’re at it again uh? Talking about how she stole ‘your man’ and how it is unfair for your poor little existence.” Ginny had no mercy on the girl when it came to the so called ‘Fulviarigold’ subject. 

Actually, Ginny had never mercy for anything concerning Marigold. 

This time was no exception when she almost scathed her words as she comfortably sat on Dean’s laps, her calves hanging out from one armrest and her back pressed against the leg Dean had curled up on his armed chair as he passed one arm around her waist. 

The one year younger red haired girl had a fiery temperament strictly speaking, but surprisingly enough, it matched Marigold’s, thus, exchanges like this one were not so rare nor took to heart. 

“For Edgar Allan Poe’s sake, don’t even begin Ginny.” She turned toward the girl finally joining the group with their friends. “I already have a bunch of moms and dads scolding me for my bad behaviour here.”

Ginny looked unimpressed, having Dean stroking her hair.

“Come on Ginny, sit properly aren’t you ashamed?” softly scolded Ron. 

Ginny considered for few minutes her position, and, with an infernal grin, locking her eyes in her brothers’ sank even further in Dean’s laps. 

Ginny and Dean had dated during few months, years from now; it had not worked out well despite the great affection for each other, so they ended breaking up. After that Dean somehow figured out his attraction for Seamus and it was toward his ex girlfriend he had seek for help to understand and manage his feelings. Since then the duo was closer than ever, and the couple would always be thankful to her. So her proximity with Dean had become a fond habit. 

“Ashamed?!” The young girl repeated, “Oh, I surely ain’t as I need to keep preciously every single drop of shame for when I have to be around you in public.” She ended her sentence with the sweetest smile she could offer. 

Everybody in the room but Ron seemed to find a sudden interest in its decoration while trying not to laugh at the roast. 

“So back to the former subject of this afternoon gathering; namely Marigold being allegedly threatened for no other reason but Malfoy being back among the mortals.” She added, changing the topic of their conversation. 

Marigold didn’t wait for the others people’s reaction and replied, a little bit hurt by the last comment. 

“Oh, because for you, a boy making sexual implications and physical advances while talking shit on the back of his own girlfriend and having no-one else but Malfoy herself coming at you, telling you your own boyfriend isn’t trustworthy, that he kissed her among others and that you should rethink your life’s choices aren’t reasons enough for you?” 

The bitter memory of the last school year’s end felt like blood in her mouth as she spoke. And for some reason her claim had seem to ‘ruined’ the mood or at least freeze it a little. 

Everybody felt bad for bringing back the pain she had hard time to get a rid of. 

It was Hermione who tried first to make Marigold ponder over her way of thinking. 

“Well, at least Malfoy had the honesty to come find you and make you aware of the situation and aware about what was happening behind your back. And she had the courtesy not to tell you in front of everybody that – sorry for rubbing salt in your wounds – your boyfriend openly more than flirted with everything owning a pussy and mostly Malfoy, and I insist you should be a little glad she didn’t tell you in front of everybody... So maybe give up on blaming her for everything because last new, it was your boyfriend hitting on her, she did nothing implicating she was interested by him.” The words were harsh but the tone was soft, 100% Hermione’s style, playing at the same time the good and the bad cop. 

“So what? You want me to pander at her feet just because the Ice Queen is back and throw a Hallelujah? Hell fucking no, no fucking way! She can burn alive for what I care! Gosh you know that I hate her!”

Marigold only swore when she was fulminating. Two times in a raw was bad news. 

After letting the pressure in the room fall back, it was Seamus turn to step in: “We know, Mari, we know since your first meeting you can’t stand her. And your reasons are valid; we just want you to be free from all this hatred you nourish against her, because it’s doing you wrong.” As he was saying those things, he had brought his body closer to the edge of the armchair he sat in, giving Luna an eyeful of his back. This latter, silent until now, chose what she saw as an opportunity to change subject. 

“Hey Seamus, you’re wearing your shirt backward,” unaware of any implications that it meant. 

The silence lasted only for the new information to sink in and unlock the meaning of it. 

Dean had hidden his face into the mass of red hair in front of him while Seamus put his hand on his face in an attempt to shield the coloured reaction covering his whole face after being busted. 

“HAH!! I knew it!” Marigold pointed at Ron who was purposely escaping from Hermione’s rebuking gaze while reluctantly giving a purple note to his best friend. 

The young people were either having the time of their lives laughing, or were too ashamed to even move a muscle. 

“Speaking of clothes, Luna told me earlier the outfits for the presentation of the athletic team later in the afternoon had arrived in the cloakrooms.” 

He couldn’t hear it for it was only Deans’ and Seamus’ minds screaming it, but the couple couldn’t be any more thankful for Neville’s intervention. 

Marigold beamed due to her gain. In a fraction of seconds, the mood was definitely lifted and they left the room summarising the course of the event. 

Hermione was a bit sceptical about their “peculiar” method to attract the attention of everybody in the hallways. 

“Are you sure you won’t be caught by McGonagall or any other professors though?” 

At which Marigold – self-proclaimed brain of the operation – bit the inside of her cheek and reassured the other girl while hoping for her mysterious love interest to also be present later on, “Why, of course we’re not sure and neither 100% safe, but it’s legit the only way to catch the amount of attention we’re seeking,” she continued “It has been planned for weeks since midsummer! Nobody can put themselves in our way now, not even Malfoy will steal my place. If she really believed that she just had to come back with a new haircut to steal all the attention of everybody in the room, she’s madly wrong.” 

She marked a significant pause, threw back her hair with the help of her hand even though it wasn’t in the way at all. “Bitch, I was only sent to this school to step on the Drama Queen throne Sirius left me. If she tries to take it away from me, he will hear about this.”

Everyone around her nearly split their sides laughing. 

Even if she would not admit it, Hermione thought it had its perk to be obsessed with Malfoy, Marigold could catfish her flawlessly, by the tone and also the edgy cold attitude.

Once they arrived to the cloakroom, they changed and practiced one last time their lines and movements. Then, with a wicked grin, Marigold turned towards her friends, she would mind the ‘Malfoy related issue’ later, 

“Let’s get the show started.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be in few chapter, I think, an explanatory of Marigold's youth and education, to show how were Remus and Sirius around and her and other people too! 
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me, that means a lot!   
> Leave a comment or a constructive criticism :)


	4. Comme un poisson dans l'eau

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fulvia comes back to the castle but she has to adjust to her new restrictions.

Useless.

That was how she felt at this exact moment. She couldn’t help but wait in a mental agony for the untenable sensation of the burning flow coming up her cheeks, her nose beginning to itch and the knot forming in her throat as she refrained from crying.

She’d state some person in her life genuinely cared about her but it didn’t mean she understood some of them were willing to physically carry out to actively improve her life.

And yet, they did and she couldn’t properly return the intentions. She wasn’t worth the efforts. Those people knew they wouldn’t get anything in exchange, and yet, they’d gladly put themselves under trials as to please a fucking insatiable and ungreatful cold-hearted queen.

She’d never asked for it – to be heartless – and she didn’t want to put all the blame on her education because she knew one could change but she’d never intended to, too much effort for nothing really satisfying enough at the end of the day. And it had been enough until now, not caring about other people and their feelings.

Of course there were exceptions and it included the individuals she couldn’t correctly give back the attention they offered her, and here was the reason for feeling useless – at least in their lives. Nothing but a selfish prick taking everything she needed and never paying it back.

_/ Flash back /_

It had been one hell of a boring beginning of the week.

Once she had woken up, the day after texting with Blaise, Fulvia’d massaged her ankle for few minutes.

She’d sighted out of relief; 6 days left until the end of her RE but winced a little at the idea, since it meant she had to go back to Hogwarts by this time.

She‘d carefully took the stairs as she went down to the kitchens to take her breakfast. Mrs. Zabini was already at work so she had the house for herself minus some people that worked around the house.

She had dreamed about a sort of blurry fairy tale. It was a reminiscence of joyful times, as a child, loved by her parents. They were laughing together. She remembered the feeling of hope filling her heart, wishing for things to stay this way forever in their perfect little holiday house in Norway they went during the summers.

But the fresh events had destroyed every single hope she had left.

As she’d poured herself some hot water, a buzz from her phone had forced her out of her thoughts. She’d taken the time to finish preparing her tea cup and had carried it to the closed patio. After sitting on her favourite cushion – the one that drown her in warm sunlight – she had looked at her phone while taking a sip from her cup.

[9:12AM] **Sparkle Factory™:** Hey angel face hyd?

Fulvia’d frowned a little at the sight of her screen, her mouth forming a thin line; it wasn’t his style to stall by asking how life was going.

[9:20AM] **FoolRoad:** What do you want?

She’d waited for his answer and had the time to imagine all the possible scenarios by the time he sent a reply back. She’d realised she’d held her breath when air filled her lungs again after a quick read of the words sent by Blaise. She’d knew it was a bit of overreacting but couldn’t help it, being physically away from Hogwarts was stressing enough; everything could happen while her absence, from a little argument with Potter’s lot to the public discovery of her secret.

[9:22AM] **Sparkle Factory™:** Remember when I promised you I wouldn’t let you live under staircases or a broom closet and all??

Her brows had taken a confused frown. 

[9:24AM] **FoolRoad:** Uh yeah pretty much because it was like what 7hrs ago and I’m not senile yet?????

[9:24AM] **Sparkle Factory™:** So glad your brain’s still useful, so glad

She saw the tapping bubble appear and disappear several times in a row.

[9:26AM] **Sparkle Factory™:** No but more srsly I went to talk with Derlin the Wizard about where you’ll sleep when you come back next Friday

[9:26AM] **FoolRoad:** What

[9:26AM]: Why would you

[9:27AM]: How?????

[9:28AM] **Sparkle Factory™:** Chileeee

[9:29AM]: Everything is good I swear. Better if you know it now, like, you have a whole week to digest the fact you gonna sleep on the ladies restroom’s floor

[9:30AM] **FoolRoad:** Hahaha I can smell your bullshit from over here you’re not even scaring me you little bitch

[9:36AM]: You there?

[9:42AM]: bitch don’t you dare mess with my brain

[10:12AM]: You can forget all out promises I don’t know you anymore. And I mean it.

He still hadn’t responded after the threat. She’d shrugged it off and went for preparing herself before the daily RE at 11:30am.

She’d apathetically brushed her teeth after leaving reluctantly her warm cocoon, and got fully dressed.

She’d tried to discipline her hair. With the new haircut she couldn’t do much; it was longer on the top and bend to one side and this very side began to curl into thin waves. She would have to find a way to tame it once at Hogwarts. She would look it up later, something like how to have a professional undercut look... or something.

She’d finally decided to wear a cap backward, not convinced by the look of the greatest fuckboy to ever exist. Some strands of hair falling out on her forehead escaping the cap hole added to her forever careless and casual dressing style; large shirts with other comfortable layers on top and a pair of black skinny jeans with big chunky boots.

She had been lucky enough to be able to borrow Blaise’s old band shirts as her suitcases were already at Hogwarts, and not to only be left with a pyjama and a blanket.

She’d grabbed her backpack and her earphones before rushing as much as she could with a twisted ankle down the stairs.

No thoughts, only music, only looking apathetically outside during the RE, ignoring the comments of the physiotherapist.

Once she’d came back home, she’d threw all of her belongings in a corner of her room and happily got rid of her boots before dropping her body on her bed and had tried to work on some homework Blaise sent her daily to catch on with the lessons she’d missed.

Her concentration had helped to forget about other ‘little’ things. How her ankle was slowly healing – even though the physiotherapist said it was an impressive recovery going on – how he gave her the creeps by touching her even though he was just doing his job, how she would face the return at Hogwarts...

Her main courses were sciences, both physics and chemistry in her case, and she easily lost track of time once she dove on these subjects. More for it demanded a full attention than for the hypothetical dedication to it.

Fulvia took all the science classes and had added some optional English and Latin classes to it plus the core curriculum and some mandatory options as chemistry AP classes, and once, ballet.

But since her father’s intervention, ballet classes would be no more in the window and she hadn’t chose yet what she would take to replace them.

A buzz had once again took her from the focus she gave her homework. She hadn’t seen the time fly but her feet were sore from the flooding blood interruption as she sat crossed legged on the top of the blankets.

As she’d checked her phone she’d got rid of her ankle support and opened her legs so the blood could rush back in them.

[3:58PM] **Sparkle Factory™:** Sorry

[3:58PM]: Busy 

She had tossed it back on the covers and went back to work.

That was basically how she had spent the following days, dissociating and letting her occupations control her day-life like a routine.

Until Thursday night in the Hogwarts Express, where all the anxiety she’d effortlessly buried under her non-mental presence had finally shown up, keeping her company on her way to Hogsmeade’s station just like a dear friend would. She’d switched non-stop between social medias trying to distract herself in vain.

She hardly had slept three hours when she’d stepped down the platform with only her school rucksack and a duffel bag containing the stuffs she couldn’t let at Blaise’s.

Speaking of the devil.

In the parking lot of the station, standing by an ordinary old but clean dark car, a man whom the white of his shirt’s collar underlined the deep pigment of his skin, had been waiting for her.

Fulvia had dropped her bags just before diving in his opened arms and buried her head in the crooks of his neck.

“The queen had finally returned her Queendom.” He had whispered against her hair with a light tone.

She’d chuckled at this and it had the effect to definitely chase the tears menacing to appear. Once they’d broken apart from their warm reunion Blaise had taken Fulvia’s bags and had put them in the boot while she’d installed to the passenger seat and had waited for Blaise to turn on the engine.

The ride had been pretty silent but comforting at first, reassuring in a way. The man couldn’t help but feel uneasy thinking about the last time he had had to drive her somewhere.

She had felt bad for waking him up before dawn but once in the car, she had been so glad to see him again before anybody else.

He had watched her being tormented by her thoughts and that’s why he had said, “Don’t you worry about their opinions and make sure to always keep your head _straight_ once there.” After two seconds of silence he had felt bad about the comment and had gazed at her, “Too soon?” he asked with both a small voice and smile, but she had hidden a wide grin behind her hand and deadpanned, “You and me both know I unfortunately can’t do that.”

They both chuckled.

“So, what’s this luxurious carriage is all about?” she’d sarcastically added, smiling fondly for she knew it was a favour from a certain professor.

“Shut up and don’t forget to be thankful for the lending, and gROSS!! Don’t put your feet there, I promised him to give it back in the same condition I found it in! Else I’ll have to clean the chemistry lab.” He snorted while trying to shove her feet off the dashboard of the car.

They had arrived around 6:15am so they hadn’t cross the path of a lot of students and she’d followed her best friend that had lead them to the Slytherin Common room.

He had taken a slow pace for she would never tell him her ankle hurt.

The ivory-skinned girl had been perplexed as she understood they were going to their CR. She had interrogated him with a curve of her eyebrow once they had stopped behind the entrance of the room.

He’d smiled at her and had gone back to leading her to what would be her new bedroom.

There was a narrow path between two full bookshelves with a narrower staircase, turning few times before the last steps stopped to a dark wooden door.

She had not known where Blaise had been taking her but couldn’t help the excitement rising in her chest once in front of the ordinary door. He had told her to open it and she had hesitantly done so. She had been taken aback by the scent of fresh paint before even fully entering the room.

And once she’d entered it, she had understood what this room was supposed to be.

She had roamed the room, observing it then observing her best friend.

And there she had felt useless, unworthy of the dedication and the time he had invested in her.

_/ End of the flash back /_

She changed in her uniform and Blaise helped her to do her hair.

She had seen something similar on the men she modelled with, like an asymmetrical-business-man-undercut, it was thickly plated back.

“That’s what you were busy with?” she pursued their earlier message conversation, this time she didn’t stopped the tears. She would _never_ be thankful enough.

He corrected her, “Not only me; Pans’, Theo and Snape also helped. Well mostly Snape actually as he was the one taking care of everything. He found this old vacant room and asked us to help him in our free time to repaint it and add some furniture. I think he said it belonged to an old student that had an illness or something that required him to be isolated and so that’s why it possesses its ensuite bathroom and all I guess.”

Pansy Parkinson and Theodore Nott had been _besties_ for ages and they had befriended Fulvia through their friendship with Blaise.

Now Pansy was with the two latter friends most of the time and the three of them were often joined by Theodore in the last years.

The four of them would often hang out together since then, but they were not as close with each other as they made the rest of the school believe. Or at least that’s what Fulvia thought.

That’s why she was genuinely surprised to hear they had also helped.

She could only mouth a poor “thanks” through the quiet sobs.

They sat on the bed, her new bed in fact, and they were glancing at each other silently, cross legged – the ankle support making it more difficult – on the mattress. She observed once again the room and its disposition.

Contrary to what she had expected for being near the Slytherin’s CR, the room was very luminous. Actually it was all about white, but not hospital-white-like, it was warm and reassuring thanks to the large window were she could see the sun rising and the light drowning the room, just above the lake, the only Slytherin place above the lake to be exact.

The bed they were sat on was a mattress relying onto treated wooden pallets forming the bed base. The whole thing fitted the alcove in the room, an egress window placed just above it on one of the inclined walls.

Facing directly the bed space, there was a first door leading to the bathroom. Another door on the same wall, closer to the entrance, opening on the dressing in a way that if said door was open then the main door of the bedroom would be blocked. Details, but it was reassuring and comforting in a way.

On the same wall the entrance was in, there were a massive angle desk and then a library closing the space in a U shape extending one of the alcove walls and shielding the bed space from the entrance point of view. Again, reassuring and comforting enough in a way.

Facing the main door, a large window with a seat took almost the entire last wall. Apart from some empty shelves, library and other pieces of furniture, the space constituted Fulvia’s new bedroom, and it was by far one of the largest room she’d ever seen in the castle for a single individual.

She couldn’t believe it belonged to her. Dumbledore had mentioned nothing of the sort.

“I’m so sorry you had to do all of this for me.” She cupped her nose and mouth in her hands and tried to frown her emotions away. Blaise, who had expected her to say this and knew her words didn’t apply only for the hard work they had invested these past days, grabbed her wrists and lowered them down her laps, forcing her to cross his gaze. He took a deep but gentle voice.

“I swear everything is going to be ok from now on, I’m here and you are not going anywhere.” He emphasised his last words with a firmer grip on her wrists.

She wanted so much to believe in her best friend’s words and yet knew better than to get rid of her apprehension.

*

Saying she was swimming in her uniform was an understatement.

Even if she insisted it was because they hadn’t seen each other much the last summer, Blaise knew it was more from malnourishment than exercising or whatever reason she would give him, but he also knew better than to lecture her into it.

She wore it the same way she always did all those years, the slight difference being that her pullover seemed larger than the past years and she had to wear a belt for her trousers.

His mother had assured him she ate pretty well during her stay, but he also knew the tricks his best friend could use when she didn’t feel like taking care of herself.

Besides the stares, nothing really differed from their usual classes.

Fulvia was back; even her absence and all the unknown reasons her new appearance held did nothing to impede her studiousness once in the classrooms.

In her first class, she gave back her paper before anyone as she mentally thanked Blaise for the homework he had sent her, in her third one, which was AP chemistry, she precisely followed all the precise instructions of the protocol, unbothered by Theodore’s subtle looks of interrogation and the non-so-discreet ones Pansy threw her.

She was only affected by the way the other ballet students side-glanced at her occasionally between classes, but she’d mastered for years the art of wearing cold masks no matter the circumstances and today was no exception.

Of course the ballet teachers wouldn’t have kept the information about her dismissal for them only, and she should have expected the new to spread within the club pretty easily. For now, they only cognized her ankle support with heavy stares.

Thanks to her this new thin one her walk seemed more fluid, the limping gait she had until now had changed in slow but steady steps.

As she entered the Great Hall, she repressed the shivers coming down her spine and adjusted her stance.

Followed by her friends as they were heading for their usual spot at the Slytherin table, she tried to ignore the way the voices died dramatically in the room to let place to whispers and murmurs. She felt the weight of the thousand eyes glaring her on their way to sit down.

Fulvia never ever complained before of the attention she could be given, at the contrary she even craved for it somehow.

Actually, she was not the only one; it had been a thing between Potter and her since the day they met.

One of the two students would randomly throw a sneaky remark, an insult or even sometimes just a dirty look and it’s all they needed to bring attention towards the both of them. 

The attention seeker attitude was one of the reasons Fulvia had apprehended her return to Hogwarts.

Fulvia couldn’t bring herself to return the glares she would eventually get from Potter as she just wanted to be left alone and go through a eventless last year of school.

She forced herself to look straight towards her place on the bench as she’d almost reached it. Once she sat down, she persisted to keep her head lowered, which didn’t match to her character but it was better than crossing Potter’s eyes she had felt on her way.

Even if for now Potter had turned the other way around, she wouldn’t risk anything and chose to keep her upper body a little bent over the table, listening to her friends talking about the new school year and what Fulvia had missed, purposely avoiding direct questions about herself at all.

Blaise was discreetly trying to slide a plate under her nose; she discreetly tried to stop him. She’d nonchalantly put down her hands in front of her so no room was left for him to place anything. But somehow, with one hand, he discreetly pinched at her ribcage and she was forced to give away, and with his other hand, he casually put down food on the now free space. They were stealthy enough nobody noticed what was going on.

She reluctantly began to play with the food before eventually taking her fork to her mouth; she still didn’t want other people to question it.

Truth is she didn’t feel like nourishing herself, she couldn’t see the point when she wasn’t hungry at all because her inner organs were too fucking busy playing a hella hot Twister game.

Blaise tempted fate, he tried to pass along a glass of water to Fulvia, but this latter knew it was more than just an act of politeness; she knew he kept tabs in his head of what she was getting in her body to know what she was lacking any second of the day.

It hurt. It hurt so bad to have her friend monitoring her this way when she knew it only brought him worry, which he obviously didn’t need.

As she stalled to take it, he insisted “Here, Fulvia.”

The energy in the Great Hall changed drastically.

She could tell he regretted it the moment the last syllable left his lips, as his eyes went alertly wide while everything went silent.

Both of them held their eyes into each other, sharing one shaken breath, not knowing what to do for those everlasting seconds/minutes/hours.

Eventually, Blaise whispered first, “I’m sor-”

“Don’t.”

The ivory skinned girl didn’t blame him, and she certainly didn’t want him to excuse himself with all the things he had already done for her.

Suddenly a violent whoosh was heard and Fulvia fought back her instinct to find its origin. By the soft curse let out by Pansy and the way both Blaise and Theo turned around, she understood it directly came from across the table.

She stalled as much as she could but eventually, she would have to face up at some point.

She stayed silent after that for a while, looking at her plate, waiting for the murmurs to fill back the hall.

She now wasn’t at least the center of attention at 100%.

Fate had mercy. When she finally raised her face, Potter was indeed standing up, making a fool out of herself but hey what’s new, still looking back at whatever her friends were telling her.

Fulvia couldn’t help but think about how when she had _crash-met_ Potter, few days ago, in the corridors, she hadn’t noticed she was not the only one who had adopted a new look this year.

Potter’s jet black hair was surprisingly shorter yet messier than ever, letting the sun-kissed skin of her nape show. When this latter turned around, the contrast between the rich dark pigmentation of her hair and her olive skin with the green of her eyes was stronger than ever after this summer break; no doubt at least one of them had enjoyed the sun.

Those very eyes were now focused, analysing something – Fulvia’s hair for sure – squinting behind round thin glasses.

In front of the closed expression of the other girl’s face, Fulvia couldn’t help but have a flash-back/memory of the very last year ending, the arguments and dramas she had been involved into by force more than by will; which added to the complexity of the situation and gave some more reasons as why she didn’t felt like confronting Potter this year and would do everything possible to avoid her.

Last year, she had held her ground against false accusations, against low blows and public settling of scores. She couldn’t bring herself to do the same things all over again; the two months separating the two school years had been awfully eventful and had changed her in a way she wouldn’t stand for any of her past words even though it was the honest truth.

But she also knew she couldn’t just ignore Potter without giving any explanations of the sudden disinterest for their fights and expect the girl to leave her alone knowing how hungry for confrontations she was.

Yet, Fulvia had nothing to do with Potter’s love quarrels and would act accordingly.

Her thoughts were chased by the other girl’s body language which threatened to make headway towards her.

Potter locked her eyes in Fulvia’s and the feelings escaping from the former ones were so pervasive, wrathful and burdensome she felt nauseous, the world around her swayed.

Fortunately, the head master chose this moment to make a public announcement, giving Fulvia enough to pull her act together and, once everything in her vision was steady again, she plainly fled from the room without being followed by Blaise, Pansy or Theo. She needed some alone-time; they were kind and respectful enough to understand that.

With all of the students gathered in the Great Hall she allowed herself to give up on her perfect stance and gave in to the limping rhythm her body begged her go back to, safe from any humiliation. She just wandered around the school grounds.

That’s how she’d found herself in the dungeons; in her chemistry professor’s office more precisely.

She knew the place like the back of her hand, so many times sneaking in to escape from the crowd.

A brief glance around the room; the same weird glass jars with the same amount of dust on the shelves against the walls. Reassurance and comfort.

Fulvia progressed towards her usual spot, in the narrowest space between the stone walls framing the small stained glass window, just behind the desk.

She curled up against the stone wall.

As she waited for the professor to enter the room, she lit a cigarette, opening the window, letting the smell and smoke get away.

She’d reached the half of it when she heard the footsteps, but had only turned her head from the window at the exasperated sound escaping from the incoming person.

“Ugh,” she hid the beginning of a smile “for love’s sake, could you stop inviting yourself in my office to underage smoke.”

“I’m so pleased to see you too.” she deadpanned while ditching the cigarette butt in the not so empty ashtray besides the window and rose from her former position so they could greet each other with a quick but fierce hug. When they separated, he cupped her cheeks between his hands and cautiously studied her face.

“Sevs, I’m alright, there’s no need to-” she tried to escape from the affectionate grip and he hesitantly let go. She tried a confident smile but his brows were still knotted in a frown as he inspected her, his lips forming a thin line.

She tried something else, something that would make him drop the subject, “Thank you for the car by the way! Blaise only bumped into three walls and two trees.” She added with an authentic cheeky smile. She had guessed right, Severus’s frown morphed in an unbothered blank face knowing she was messing about with him.

She still gathered some courage and breathed in before coming up to a touchier subject. It would be easy, she had rehearsed all morning long her lines between her classes.

“Also... I wanted to thank you from the bottom of my heart for the precautions you took for me, making sure I would have a roof over my head and to sleep under during this school year. Blaise told me about your discussion with Dumbledore and how you got me a room and- and...” she couldn’t remember the rest of it but there were still so much she wanted to thank him for, “and thank you Severus for being there for me.” She avoided his eyes.

His eyes, all glassy and suffering now.

Oh, she remembered now, “Also, if you need me to repay you for any fees for the room or/and the pieces of furniture I ca-”

“Stop talking and breathe in for fuck’s sake, _Fulvia_ -” even with his angry tone, she could feel all the affection he poured in this latter word, this name, her name, the name he had gave her years and years ago as he had met his goddaughter for the first time in his life. He looked away, going back to an angry-frown, “I found the room but your father paid for the fees, it was an agreement with Dumbledore. We found the pieces of furniture here and there, it’s nothing much. I hope it’ll be comfortable enough for you. Tell me if you need anything at all.” The pain in his voice was menacing to make her cry once again.

He walked towards his desk, alternating between looking awkwardly at Fulvia and fidgeting with some papers on the wooden surface. She threw him an inquisitive look.

“How are you doing? Do you want to talk about anything; how you feel, what do you want to do, what can I do to help you?”

She didn’t say anything; she didn’t know where to begin. So, he kept going.

“Don’t look at me like that. Of course I’m worried about you!”

She knew that, she even knew he was by far the person who had the most concern about her life; her proper father figure. The efforts he may have been through to get her a new room was only one of the numerous proofs for it. And in retrospect, it always had been her godfather that got her presents, interests and attentions with real sentimental value.

“Did you have time to check your new room?”

She didn’t know how to bring the right amount of gratefulness to his ears, “Hm, yeah, it was- it’s- hum I have no words. Thanks a ton Sevs, like for everything and all and-”

“Well, contain yourself or you will make me blush, Fulvia,” an eyebrow sardonically raised before going back to his so usual serious tone, devoid of any emotions, but with a new shadow in his eyes, “I told you, I only helped bringing the furniture and mobilising hands to move in.”

He gauged her before proceeding, “Do you plan to do something about the situation? I know you don’t see it now, but there is more than one way to take care of it,” he saw how uncomfortable that made her, imagining all the thoughts and repercussions crossing her mind at the speed of light, she always had been very quick to think and go in dark places.

“Again, the extra room was integrally paid by Mr. Malfoy, along the school fees. And this, for the whole year, there is nothing like ‘refund’ possible on this part. So, whatever needs to be done,” his tone grew warmer, reaching to take the young girl’s hand lying on the desk, “you’ll always have a shelter here, for this year at least, until it is time to figure future out. That is why I think it wise to act as soon as you’re ready. Dumbledore told me you wanted to emancipate your bank account. Sounds to me like he won’t be able to impact on this side after doing that.”

The last sentence sounded like a suggestive request. He was now the one asking for forgiveness by offering all the support she needed. She understood that. She knew he felt responsible and she felt sorry for him, she didn’t want him to blame himself.

“Hey, it’s okay, Sevs. I’m not blaming you for anything that happened, and your help is more than welcome and you’ve already done so much. I’m just not ready right now to seriously think about...” she gestured vaguely at her loss of words, “all this.” 

“Whatever you say, I should have been there for you. Nothing of what happened... should’ve happened. If only I knew sooner what-” His voice was breaking; she had never witnessed him sounding like this. Him, the great and tall and broody and dark and harsh Severus Snape, that had read thousand of stories to her as a little girl with the same stoic tone, who had carried her on his shoulders while exploring nature and discovering new plants to learn and reciting their properties with the same frown. Who, later on, had helped her mastering her interest for chemistry.

It didn’t feel right. He appeared to be so vulnerable now.

She didn’t like that.

She didn’t like that everybody around was suddenly acting so different towards her. She hated that it was because of her. So she cut short to it.

“I appreciate everything you did to help me. It means a lot, and I know I can count on you if needed in the future. For now I will have to figure things out. I don’t want to drag anybody further into this. It’s the last thing I want. But if it can lighten your mind, I’m planning to call aunt Bella, she might knows something about what is possible to be done for emancipation rights and all. And with all the divorce she had she might now something law speaking,” she put all of her emotions in her eyes as she crossed his glance,” thank you, Sevs.”

Then she changed the subject. She didn’t feel like going on on this path without shattering in front of another person, it was the last thing she needed.

They swung between small talks and deeper ones and she didn’t forget to grandly thank him again and again for the time he had invested to help her.

He made her feel reassured and comfortable.

**

It was time to attend to the clubs presentations and she’d reluctantly followed her professor/godfather to the main corridors near the Great Hall where they had parted away with a hug.

There, she joined back the small group of seven years Slytherins wandering off between several showings, and Blaise threw casually his arm around her shoulders as if she was among them since the beginning of the event, as he used to do so.

She could witness different kind of tactics. Some clubs bet on fast motions to attract the gaze, others on the fuss created by the members. Some were quiet but still brought people to give them interest.

She averted her eyes from the ballet one when passing by its location.

Her little group seemed to be dragged by what had already attracted a lot of students given the wide gathering still forming around it.

Making a pass through the crowd – well, letting her friends move forward in the hustle and bustle – she finally settled in front of a low budget thrust stage, among other students in the way she wasn’t in the first row.

She heard Blaise ask a girl what the rally was all about but didn’t had the time to ear her answer as she made out the identities of the moving figures on the stage.

Here are the statements she could make: said club was the athletics, regrouping the ‘Slug Club’ track team as she recognised its members; there wasn’t any professor as supervisor/chaperon which was weird after attracting so much students and being far from the other clubs.

The members were listing good reasons to join the club and were showing off the track suits of the small amount of fabric composing it anyway. She identified Cormac McLaggen as the one deafening everybody’s ears.

Then Potter climbed the stage in turn, everybody knew her, or soon would, as the co-captain of the track team with McLaggen. A lot of people knew the tension between them was still present given their _recent_ breakup.

Anyway, with everyone else dressed up with the colours of the club, Potter was the only one clashing with her very own attire being neither the club’s of her uniform.

She confidently ascended the stage stairs in pretty high stilettos, even from Fulvia’s point of view – and she was used to wear the same kind during some photo shoots.

Potter was definitely mastering the attention seeking attitude.

Fulvia, as well as everyone else facing the stage, could easily see the wrap-around dress that hardly covered anything, clinging on Potter’s curves. Needless to say it was far from the proper school uniform Fulvia could usually spot her into.

Rapidly, she noticed she was not the only one intrigued by Potter’s outfit; the latter seemed to have bewitched both the gathering and the other clubs’ members, even Blaise had his mouth slightly hanging in the void. Knowing him, it was likely to be more about the boldness of Potter more than for her _inappropriate_ dressing at school. Still it bothered her having everyone around her drooling on the most annoying piece of human being that could ever exist, like how could they forget how arrogant the girl on the stage was? Okay she was _fucking fine_ , but still.

_Tsk_

Fulvia brutally closed Blaise’s jaw and focused once again her eyes back on the other girl a second later; ignoring Blaise’s noises of protest more interested in trying to anticipate what Potter was up to. Old habits die hard.

McLaggen let her get to the center of the stage, his eyes shamelessly glued on her arse. Fulvia rolled her eyes; she didn’t know which one was the most ridiculous between the two of them.

“Ladies,” Potter gazed at the assembly with a devastating smile and a suave voice, Fulvia rolled her eyes, again, typical. “Gentlemen,”

“You all, now, have heard of the theoretical qualities and possibilities our club can offer. Not omitting the benefits of taking good care of your body in order to maintain a healthy shape and being able to work properly,” she winked at that, “but as you heard, for example with the krav maga lessons, you’ll be tutored self-defence, and we still remain an anti-violence club.”

_Ugh, how ironic heh?!_

Fulvia wasn’t the only one to think so; she heard some puff of chuckles. Potter could easily throw fists; the seventh years were well informed of that knowledge.

“And it truly aims at making our students safer. If we can’t stop what aggregate immorality we shall at least together learn a way of protect ourselves and others. It is what community mindset means to me, to us, and I hope, soon, to you.”

She marked a dramatic pause in her speech that reluctantly made Fulvia’s hair rise and only made her hate more Potter for that. Once again everybody was listening carefully to what the latter girl was saying.

“I can see many of you wondering what could be the reason of my unconventional outfit,” she reached out to Dean who gave her a purse, “so let’s say I’m wandering in the street of London, or Paris, or even New York, looking at the birds and listening to music, you know enjoying life and all, minding my own business. Here we’re in broad daylight, not even in creepy streets, but we know it could happen anywhere anytime.”

She waited for everybody in the audience to picture her words before breaking the enticing landscape, “but then, out of nowhere, a mugger comes and tries to steal my things.”

One of the male members present on stage approached her at this moment and tried hard to pull her purse away by the shoulder strap, and Potter struggled to pull it the other way around. But then, all the heads abruptly turned towards the other end of the corridors, Potter stopping her act.

From the very end of the corridor, a name was loudly called, firstly indistinct, then when listening more carefully you could made out it was an infuriated man repeating a name louder and louder as he was approaching, “MiSs POtTEr!”

Everybody now was back fixing the girl whose name was shouted with the wrath of Hell.

She looked back at the boy playing the robber and a little glimpse of panic formed in her eyes, “Quick!!” she whispered.

Her voice resonated again over the gathering.

“So let’s say I can’t win by opposing direct strength,” her words were a little more hashed, “very well, but unfortunately for them, I know exactly how to take their breath away and it’s all about the flick of the wrist.”

As some chuckles were heard, she kicked her high heels off on the stage, and pulled at the ribbon holding her dress with one hand, still struggling to keep her bag as it was forcefully being dragged away from her with the other one.

As the fabric faintly fell down, everybody in the assistance held their breath.

She wore the club sport bra and the matching booty shorts. The thing was that it appeared to be at least one size below her own. How to say that, there was no way if she really wore them during her practice everything would stay in place.

The professor screaming her name in warning had now almost reached the turn of the corridor. But nobody minded it, they were mesmerised by the sight. In their defence, the half naked girl with the sun kissed skin was glowing as if she had previously fell in pool of oil; every curves and muscles shinned and glimmered under the light of the corridor.

It was now Blaise’s turn to shove Fulvia’s elbow.

“MISS POTTER.” It seemed near enough to soon put the girl on stage in troubles.

She rushed to knock out her opponent by throwing him over her shoulder. Maybe the rush of the events made her act a bit fiercer that intended seeing of the boy’s face went from surprise to slight discomfort once hitting the ground. 

“Miss Potter! You better not be doing something compromising for your place in this institution!”

She took back her purse, slipped her feet in some sneaker her friends had threw besides her, passed the strap on her shoulder and turned towards the crow, “See you on Monday practice!”

“MISS POTTER!!!” It was Flitwick who appeared to hoot the name of the girl for the last five minutes already.

Said girl was now nowhere to be seen, and the student that had helped with the demonstration was now doing push-ups from his former position as to show a method of exercising, clenching the fabric of the dress and sponged himself with it as he would with a towel.

Some people in the gathered students wondered where the Gryffindor girl could have fled but where smart enough not to comment on it out loud in front of the music professor.

Some others but fewer ones had closely followed the flow of actions. 

Fulvia was part of it.

She couldn’t help the small feeling of awe for the... boldness and nerve of her sworn enemy who had just practiced the most badass parkour escape from a stage to a 13ft opened window in the wall, only leaning on few old stones.

“Where is she?!” Flitwick looked everywhere, fulminating, “When she told me there were stairs on fire somewhere in the castle, I should have known something was coming!”

“Hum, sorry professor, but you only appear to arrive at the end of our presentation.” Said McLaggen on a flat tone. “Marigold was not there, she let us alone to deal with it.”

“Don’t you dare play innocent with me you insolent; I’ll have the end of it!” He quickly went back from where he first came, letting out indistinct fuming words. Let’s say after seven years of dealing with Potter’s shit, Fulvia was not the only one hating her gut.

After that, everybody went back to their own club presentations, still whispering about what had happened while the athletics club was cleaning away their area, laughing among themselves.

“How can she do that?”

Fulvia frowned in incomprehension at her best friend. He was teasing her as he would when he tried to phrase out loud Fulvia’s thoughts.

“Monopolizing everybody’s interest I mean. She’s basically the most hetero bitch out there that I know attract so much people. Come on don’t look at me like that,” his voice took a tone of false outrage, “you know exactly what I mean. She only had to jump on the stage without her uniform and what, smile, and all the assembly sighed out of admiration. What is so good about her?” he added with a wink and laugh in his voice.

Fulvia straight up ignored him.

“Ow come on, I’m talking in your place because it also infuriates me when she’s showing her angel side when half the castle knows she also can be such a dick.” 

“When she’s not a dick 99% of the time you mean. What did she ever do for being this popular anyway? Get into fights and being most of the professors’ pet peeve.” She corrected herself after Blaise sceptically glanced at her, “okay, all the professors besides Sevs adore her even Flitwick, but there’s really nothing appreciating, she talks back, returns late her papers and she isn’t even prefect!”

“You sure have analysed her,” Blaise scoffed, glad to know that the Potter-topic was still something that gave life to his best friend, “that’s surprising for somebody who despise her so much as you do, huh.”

The slender girl harshly elbowed him in the ribcage, “Don’t even begin, or I shall kill you before your next breath reaches your lung.”

“Oh no! Not the death glare, I fear for my life right now!” He tried to contain his laugh in front of the scowl his best friend wore and pretended to faint but couldn’t restrain much and while getting away from her reach he rubbed his hurting side, he kept laughing harder and harder as she calmly but determinedly chased after him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So basically, Severus in here is not a dick and abusive adult. it's like responsible!Severus you know. he's the only good father figure Fulvia gets and their relationship is precious to me bc they're both awkwards. 
> 
> Also, Blaise is the only one allowed to tease Fulvia, like he can make her live hell if he wants but the minute someone else just even tries to annoy her, it's the end of the ride.


	5. What seems perfect is most likely to always be a lie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marigold has severe abandonment issues, and guess what, they do have an origin. 
> 
> Cormac is repeating his year in Hogwarts.
> 
> /!\ TW : Homophobia & Fatphobia /!\

et’s face it, this kind of adrenaline rushes were all there was to live for. She could feel her energy buzzing through her whole body. The scrapped knees a few reaped bruises were totally worth it after getting almost caught by a teacher and having to climb by a high window and then finding her way back to the ground safely without getting any witness. 

She was now back in her uniform and among her friends and fellow track mates. 

As planned their club won over the other ones. 

The registrations had been wild right after she left; it had regrouped the students who had planned to join the club from the start, those who had been convinced by the “sell-arguments”, and then, if some hadn’t been seduced by all those conditions above, Marigold’s semi-flasher trick had finished to make them sign in for good. 

She hadn’t missed of course all the mouths hanging, the gazes all over her body as if she were a sort of tasty meal. But she’d rather not think about it or also about Cormac’s comments when he learned about the plan as well as his lewd look over the entirety of her body as he had stood next to her during the presentation. She had just brushed it off. 

There was once a time when she had been awfully self-aware of her rather ‘prominent curves’, but both the track club and her job had helped to work on it, making her chisel some aspects of her figure and accept it as it was, even more, embrace it. She could still get moments where the dismorphia hit hard, but she got better at handling it now. 

Cormac comments about her body, back when they used to date, sure hadn’t helped her to feel proud about it, funny how the table turned. 

Now, she even hoped for her mysterious crush to have been present in the crowd and to finally notice her, so they could reunite and live happily ever after. 

She walked back to the lockers to change so she’d be able to offer some help for the cleaning of the stage.

Of course their almost certain victory was contested with people saying they regrouped more competences and, that some other clubs, more specific ones held fewer chances to win. But, hey, it was the game. She ignored the nasty comments and wandered with her friends among the presentations left once they were finished with rearranging their corridor part, carrying the last boxes.

“Miss Potter, a word if you please.” 

She winced at the call of her name

“Ouhhh, there’s trouble browing.” 

“Zip it Finnigan!” she stopped after slightly elbowing the boy, keeping the same low voice he had taken. She turned, all smiles, to face her former math professor frowning at her.

“Hello Professor McGonagall, a sweet day for September we’re having, right?” A stern face only received her observations. 

“I was told you were up to shenanigans to put the professors out of surveillance from the presentations event. Is that true?” 

“Me? Shenanigans, I would never! You know too well I can’t plan anything at all for I don’t own any – what was it again on my last school report – ability to manipulate precise and intricate ideas or can’t construct logical arguments and expose illogical arguments.” She tried hard to keep from turning her smile into a sly grin. 

“Playing smart won’t help you right now Miss Potter. Maybe detention could keep you from disturbing professors’ supervision and improve your geometry grades?” 

“No, I’m sorry Professor.” She winced. 

McGonagall stared at her for few more seconds, examining the girl from head to toe, and then left the group of students. 

“It was a close one-” she exhaled.

“Oh, and, Miss Potter?” 

“Yes, Professor?” she turned only to watch the back of her former math professor; the latter hadn’t judge that last commentary worthy enough to even face Marigold. 

“Professor Lupin asked for you. He is waiting in his class office.” 

Shit, shit, shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit

“Yes, thank you, Professor.” 

She turned back towards her friends who anxiously looked at her, even Hermione tried to repress her I-told-you-so face. They knew being summoned by Remus Lupin of all the professorial corpse was bad news for her. 

Not thinking too much about this she excused herself for not helping in further cleaning duties to her teammates and left for the Professor’s office. 

*

“So, what was it that he wanted with you again?” 

“Ugh, Ron, I told you at least five times already. He just wanted to chat,” Liar “and to know if he had to keep 24/7 an eye on me so I wouldn’t make anything that would cost me my place at Hogwarts, or something.” Another lie. 

The professor had indeed wanted to chat. Only, it had been more specifically about her godfather than anything linked with school events or detention. At that point she didn’t know which one of the subjects was worse. 

“I’m sorry; it’s just that you’re a little gloomy since yesterday evening, for somebody who had a conversation with her godfather’s love muffin, I mean.” 

“Ew, don’t you refer to Moony like that! And stop talking at all; you’re ruining my chances of having any inspiration today.”   
He only scoffed at her and turned back searching for any old books Hermione had asked him to find, “Whatever.” 

They were out for the Hogsmeade weekly and official outing and wandered between the old shops and bookstores. They had split their usual group in two. Dean, Seamus, Neville, Luna and Ginny were helping the latter to finalise their “party” purchases while Hermione, Ron and Marigold were off to wonder aimlessly in old bookshops. 

More precisely, Hermione was looking through the old books neatly stored and Ron would aimlessly follow her and then would freeze under the distraction of his eyes catching a glimpse of dust passing through a ray-light before going back to wandering. 

As for Marigold, she had taken after her godfather about the particular interest of photography. She liked taking blurry pictures of unknown people the most. 

It was all about the aesthetic. 

Her favourite spot was a tiny reading space developed in the back of the shop. Two snug and warm cushions stood against a wide and tarnished window, giving almost a natural sepia filter on the outside. The seats were almost facing each other and beside them, a large wooden table held a small bedside lamp of which the lampshade had drastically aged, principally because of the natural light the window filtered. 

Years ago, she had found one of Sirius’s old pictures of when he and his friends – whom her father was part of – were hanging out here. Thus, the shop must have been older than the Palaeolithic era. 

Anyway today wasn’t a good day to take pictures, nor was it a good day at all, nor a good week. Getting ignored by Malfoy was surprisingly more tiresome that she’d ever have imagined, even if it was only for a day. The sudden change in interest the other girl lack to give her was wrecking the cogwheels in her brain.

And even after trying to end this week with a proper sound mind, the world was against her; no one to be seen crossing the streets behind the window. 

The annoying taping sound of the antic computer keyboard somewhere around the register was growing louder and louder on Marigold. Ron wouldn’t stop asking questions about Remus’s discussion with her, which she didn’t intend to share. Said discussion also had contributed to nourish her anger since the previous evening, making her more and more irascible as hours passed. 

** 

The cup of pure black coffee was pretty small but she still held it with both of her hands, so her mind projected a feeling of usefulness and her anxiety would leave her alone for a bit. 

Being useful was exactly what happened to lack at this precise moment. She stood sit still in one of the chairs Professor Lupin had in his office. As for himself, Remus was pacing behind his desk, roaming his mind for something to say. He then faced the window, his hands crossed on his lower back while looking in the void through a window, trying hard to keep the professional boundary. 

“Sorry to summon you out of nothing. But understand that he left me no choice, even though this one is not so much of a professional one.” 

“None taken,” Marigold sheepishly answered with a bitter taste in her mouth, the coffee having nothing to do with it “come on, don’t stall, tell me what this meeting is really about, Moony.” 

He turned towards her with a sad smile, “Yeah, you’re right sorry I understand you have other things to do and- it’s just- well you don’t want to be part of an old quarrel between Sirius and I. It’s just- you, better than anybody else, know how secretive he can be sometimes and mostly when it’s about himself and about not being a burden for others and all that drama queen discourse shit.” he dropped once and for all the formal approach. They both had an awkward muffed laugh at that. 

“Hm, you’re right. He didn’t spilled shit about being sick again. Just about, like, two months ago I found some hospital bill for a room. The date indicated the hospital fees started around the end of May and until mid June I if I remember properly. Yet he doesn’t suspect that I know about that. I think. Well, I didn’t talk about it with him yet.” 

“Sorry, what?”His tone was flat, dry.

“He’s sick again? I think? He didn’t tell you?” her nonchalant tone covered all the past nights she sent crying over the discovery for the two last months. 

Remus mumbled to himself more than to Marigold, “So, that’s how it is. I tried to reach out to him but he prefers ignoring my calls, excusing himself with being too busy with work. I should have known it was totally bullshit, tsk. We haven’t had a proper conversation since April, what a healthy relationship, huh?” 

“Yeah, bullshitting award goes to him without any doubt. But anyway, we were both equally fooled by his act this summer. I mean, the fact he was away for work didn’t help but, hey.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me about it back then?! I know I was at a training programme here, but still.” his tone resonated like reproach in Marigold’s hears. 

“As you could have done something more once being aware of the situation! And I remind you that we don’t know if the room was for him-“she began to rant.

“Yeah, because it’s totally credible he took a hospital room for somebody else, for about two-three weeks, knowing he’s a cancer veteran, and as his charity never ends, he totally kept the bill for himself and didn’t tell us about financially sheltering a poor soul that might have to go through what he went through because he’s just like that. You’re right, that’s an acceptable answer, my bad.” 

Stating that out loud, it was actually possible, but in this scenario he wouldn’t have kept quiet about it. 

The scathing and mocking tone was too much for her patience. Also, Marigold hadn’t read too much into her discovery at the time, and now, what Remus was saying could sound like a Sirius-thing, in all honesty. And even though she knew Remus didn’t aim her personally and that he had the same amount of boiling emotions right now, she felt like shit. 

She tried to tame down her anger, not wanting to lash all her fears at him, knowing the usually understanding and composed man didn’t meant all those atrocities. 

She failed. 

“I didn’t tell you, so what? I wasn’t one hundred percent sure about my assumptions okay?! Why should I be the one who brings my own abandonment!?” something gross twisted in her stomach, singing her insides, “I don’t want to go back to eleven years old me, miserable and without my real family around. No!” she spurted again not letting him argue “You can’t even imagine what’s like to be on the other side. At least, you could go see him whenever you felt like it, but you were a coward and didn’t most of the time. And now you pour out all those f-fucking nonsense and try to make me feel bad for two. But you know what, I’ll- I’ll keep my grief and sorrow and you’ll keep yours. Fuck!” her throat was so tight and sore, her vision kept blurring more and more as her eyes watered, she tried to contain her tears but the knot in her throat menaced to flood everything in the room under her weeping,  
“J’en ai marre que l’on me mette tous les malheurs du monde sur le dos ! Je ne demande pas la lune, je veux juste pouvoir vivre une vie d’adolescente normale sans avoir à vous gérer émotionnellement, vous êtes sensé être les adultes dans cette situation, mais là, je ne vois qu’un peureux qui préfère rabattre ses frustrations et la raison de la maladie de Sirius sur moi et un autre individu incapable d’affronter une horrible vérité de plus. C’est vous les adultes, putain, gérez-vous pas pitié ! ”

She hadn’t acknowledged yet the fact she was now standing, trembling and inveighing her dark and deep feelings at the man. She also hadn’t acknowledged yet that the burning sensation came from the coffee spilled over her skirt, literally scalding the skin of her thighs. 

That’s when Remus reacted and crawled back into his former position of the adult and Marigold’s guardian. 

He literally jumped to help clean her up with a cool cloth. 

The burning was only superficial but still, “I’m sorry Mari...” he said after a moment of silence as they both tried to recover from their burst of emotions, “I didn’t mean that, I-I never thought that you were the reason behind Sirius’s illness, I shouldn’t have-“

“It’s fine.” She had trouble breathing properly. 

Once the majority of the mess was washed up, he cupped her face with his hesitant hands and dried away her last tears; she avoided his eyes, looking somewhere else. 

He then dragged her in a warm and comforting embrace that made her startle for it was usually Sirius that tended to express his emotions by any form of direct contact, Remus would show a lot more with words.

But this time, words had failed him. Now he was just repeating a litany of “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.”

She wasn’t aware they both needed it this much as they released a sigh of pure exhaustion. She still didn’t embrace him back though and went for her dorm to change.

***

A dark silhouette tore her away from her mind. 

Finally! Somebody was stepping in the parallel alley, getting out of the front door of a shop and allowing Marigold to take her cliché and by doing so her mood would maybe hopefully improve. 

Little did she know this actually was about to make her day worse. 

Her body turned on autopilot and it was the gasp she made out of excitation and joyfulness that brought Ron to give interest on the subject of her focus. 

As she usually proceeded, she’d taken off her glasses and had her right eyes pressed on the camera objective, focusing on the scene she could see through it. 

Two things happened at that given moment as both Ron and she saw who was in front of them, but with a different quality of sight and interest, and thus saying that it hit them both differently was a euphemism. 

Through the camera lens, Marigold recognised the dark and blurry form currently seat on the sidewalk, the knees almost touching the chest, a tight arm curled around it, the ankles crossed, a black hood covering any possible facial features, but a pale hand bringing back and forth a cigarette to imaginary lips. 

She recognised it. She recognised him. 

“Oh dear lords! Dude, you’re seeing that?! It isn’t my imagination, right? Because I have good reasons to think that he might be my future husband, you know the one I allegedly talk about 24/7.” 

She sighed with pure delight, proceeding to take some pictures. 

“So this dude is your prince charming? The one that helped you back on your feet when he shoved you in the first place? The one who walked with a dark knight aura surrounding him? The one that you keep obsessing over. The one-”

“Yeah, yeah mate all of that is him, no need to waste time reciting his biography. So you see him too? That’s reassuring. I was so sure I dreamt him as I never saw him around after our first encounter. I’m so relived now, OMG you can’t even imagine how happy I am right now.” 

“So that’s it, you’re in love with a fuckboy.”

“Hey now! Don’t call him that! You don’t know him.” 

“Well, you don’t either actually. OUCH!” Marigold had shoved her elbow in his ribs. 

“Yeah sorry, it’s clearly a prince charming, hey Mione come and watch the beautiful guy Mari had fallen for.” 

He then added with a more serious tone, “Yeah... I can imagine what is it to find the one you love,” He scarcely glanced at Hermione, “I’m not sure though that this boy will be a great lover. I mean, you never saw him with your glasses on, did you? Because I’m not quite positive about the fact you’ll be all lovey dovey once you’ll be able to see him properly.” 

“Do you think I am this shallow? Common mate, I’m a little disappointed in you.” She looked up to him, her blind eyes leaving the charming boy on the other side of the street, “I mean, of course I’m not sure about what will his face look like, but I’m sure I’ll be able to love him no matter what, and he’ll will so much fall in love with me. We’ll beat Hermione and you in a disgusting affection showing contest!” 

“Hey, now! We’re not disgusting, and neither is it a contest!” Hermione hoped in the current conversation as she had finished her rummage, “Once you’ll know him personally, it’s possible you’ll both fall in love. But also maybe you won’t like his character so much. But you’ll never know if you don’t actually speak with each other. And by no means should we adopt a defeatist attitude.”

“Thanks Mione.” 

“Well you know I’m still not positive love will occur once she’ll know who actually this person is. I mean, look for yourself!” 

“Hey! Careful!” Marigold cried as Hermione casted her aside to take a better look, “Oh. Oh. Yeah, I see... well, that’s awkward. Hum Mari, you shall reconsider your choice. I mean, it’s not your fault so don’t be too hard on yourself, both time you didn’t wear your glasses and the looks are very different but, once you look closely, there’s obviously no way you can miss it.” 

“What the hell are you two even rehashing about?!” Marigold proceeded to put her camera down on a little table and traded in it for her glasses, putting them on the tip of her nose. 

In the meantime for her vision to adjust she examined the scenery that remained blurry until the attempt of any facial recognition came to be fruitful. 

She obviously very much regretted it as soon as she was aware of why her friends had complained earlier. 

In spite of the fact that her brain refused to acknowledge it, the organ sent a normal body response to shame and anger. All her blood flooded to her cheeks and she was now unable to express to smallest sound. She remained calm and composed. 

The boy was no longer sitting down nor was he no longer smoking. He had tossed his cigarette butt away and he was now agitatedly chatting with his friend that had just came out from the little shop and that was none other than Zabini. 

God please no. For Marie Antoinette’s sake.

The boy had also removed his hood and was just casually running his hand through his white-blonde hair, a kind of messy undercut, before putting a cap backward and the hood of his jumper back on, laughing at something Zabini had just say. 

Marigold couldn’t tear her eyes away from that face, from that timid expression originally intended for his friend’s eyes only, from what appeared to be a silent laugh of small joy and pure amusement, oblivious to the rest of the world. 

The kind of laugh wrinkling the space between the eyebrows and the nose bridge. 

There was also the ankle supports, letting no doubt regarding the person identity in front of her. 

She couldn’t proceed anything apart from the buzzing noise ringing in her hears. 

Her mouth went dry, too angry at herself and at the turn of the events, and too bewildered by what was happening in front of her. She didn’t even reacted when her other friends had joined them in the bookshop and where also witnessing the exchanges of the two people on the other side of the street. 

“Why the fuck Malfoy looks like a fuckboy now?” 

Ginny had said it. 

They saw it too. 

It wasn’t a nightmare nor was it an accident where she could have confused this person for Malfoy for they both had a slender figure and the same gracious and long face. 

Her imaginary future boyfriend was Hydra Malfoy, her nemesis that had come back to school at last and that persisted in ignoring her. The one that had drastically changed her looks without any explanations, not that Marigold would admit she craved for one. The one that had helped her back on her feet, the one that had made her fall in the first place in the corridor the previous week. 

She had to make sure. 

She could feel the presence of all her friends behind her, waiting for her to react as Hermione had told them she had had a sort of glitch at the realisation and didn’t have moved since. 

“So you see her too, right?” her tone was flat, “My eyes aren’t messing about with my brain? It’s not a bloody joke from fate isn’t it? Ron punch me please, I wanna be sure.” She turned towards him, a desperate grimace showing on her face. 

“Ugh.” he ignored her and turn towards the rest of their group indicating with his eyes the exit, so they would leave without dwelling on Marigold’s heart break for too long in this place as she would rather feel better in their common room at least where she would be able to think out loud. 

He tried not to be too explicit about the reasons why, as he’d shot down any facial expressions and managed to remain blank. 

They pretty much almost all understood something was wrong, that it wasn’t a question of life or death but still an annoying one judging by the seriousness of Ron. They wouldn’t have found out what her friend had just discovered if it wasn’t for his stupidly clairvoyant monster of a sister. 

“Hey what’s wrong Mari?” She followed the general direction where the older girl’s eyes were glued to and more or less putting together the other girl train of thoughts, “OMG, is this the allegedly dude you crushed on? Is this the beautiful guy Mari had fallen for?” She had turned towards her brother, “All dark, tall and mysterious?” 

Ron only responded with a cold frown. 

“What?! Is this a joke? So you’re telling me you’ve fallen in love with Malfoy?” turning back to Marigold. The joke was too big for her to contain her laughing voice.

“Ginny?”

“Yes, ô dear beloved brother of mine?” she fluttered her eyelashes at him.

“Fuck off.” 

****

The night had started pretty calmly even though the obvious was stated – the party planners had managed to bring alcohol despite the extreme measures of surveillance from professors at the outing earlier that day. 

As the party was officially open to both the seventh years and the sixth years, the students in charge were extremely careful and kept their eyes on everybody’s drinking quantities, plus, some fifth years had break in and were lost in the crowd as soon as spotted. 

Theoretically, all of this could be pretty well handled; it took place in the Requirement Room, a special room for unofficial celebrations or other events, available for students to use when special occasion presented. 

Professors had names in case things went bad but it was some trust those said names were given, so there wasn’t any proper authoritarian figure neither minding this kind of party nor being physically present. Some perks of being in an expensive private school. 

Marigold, as her other fellow comrades from the athletics club, hosted the party following a precise schedule giving places, functions and hours with names. 

She had succeeded in taking turns only for the first part of the evening, so she could go back with her friends during the last hours. 

She strolled between groups, for an hour now, to offer drinks – and sharing some – or food, making sure everyone was having fun, enjoyed their nights and was not going through heated arguments. 

She also spotted Malfoy’s pack at some point, thinking, still bitter, she’d never see them to this kind of event and reminding her of the sour pain that the earlier realisation had brought to her heart. 

She saw the glimpse of a teammate approaching her, this meant she was about to be free for the rest of the night. She traded the tray which she had been carrying around for a while now with the last shot glass on it. 

“Thanks Jimmy, I could no longer feel my arm.” She smiled at him before taking the shot and walking away, trying to keep it steady with the high heels. 

She waited to find herself face to face with Seamus to brag about her freedom for he still had service to do. 

The party wasn’t especially themed but songs where all from the 90’s to 2000 or so, and from time to time some current ones would pass. 

She was about to reach Seamus, this latter was at the main door, minding the entering and the exiting of the students and seemed bored as hell. She appeared from behind his back so he wouldn’t see her coming, and excitedly shouted in his ear, “To my freedom!” 

Saying he was startled by her sneaky approach was an understatement and she took advantage of the surprise effect to take a step back and wait in a dramatic pause for him to turn around, which he eventually did, she locked her eyes in his and swallowed her so called shot of freedom. 

“You know I hate it when you do that!” 

She only laughed at the remark and began to place her back against the wall to keep him company, “Does Dean know you squeak like a mouse?” she tried to stop laughing, but every time she calmed down, she remembered his shocked face as he had turned. Imagine a 187 centimetres tall sandy haired block getting all tense and losing control of his voice, what a thing to cherish forever. 

“How much did you have already?” he hinted the now empty glass with his chin, also placing himself with his back to the wall, mirroring Marigold’s position next to him. 

“How much did you felt like dying out of boredom?” 

“A great amount then.” 

She smiled inappropriately at his answer and added “Yeah, I don’t know how it is possible but they haven’t started to kick in yet so, y’know the drill, I’ll regret it tomorrow,” she made a gesture with her hands, “and for now I’m enjoying the night and our victory against all those jealous fuckers.” She showed all the people in the room with her chin. 

“So what now, you’ll stick with me until the end of my guard turn.”

“Yeah that was pretty much the big idea, as Ron already left with Hermione for another duty – he should be glad she’s patient enough to keep him company and follow him around, Jimmy has taken my place and Ginny has Luna and Nevs keeping her company. That makes me think, where is Thomas? I couldn’t find him all night long, and I pretty much physically roamed the room.”

“I don’t know man, but I miss him-”

“Awww, lookit you being all cheesy-”

“-I miss squeezing his tight arse in my hands.”

“Annnd now you’re just gross.” 

He kept bothering her with filthy mental images, clamming it was pure revenge for all the times she tried to mind both the boys’ business as she desperately tried to cover her ears, giggling. But eventually, one student broke a glass as a sudden agitation was heard and there were a lot of shatters on the floor. 

Seamus began to sigh, going to look for the broom and the shovel, not so far from where they were both standing. 

“Hold on, I’m doing it, stay here, you’re on duty. It’s my time to shine.” 

“I can’t believe God let me have a friend as caring as you.” he deadpanned, rolling his eyes. 

But as soon as her friend said those words, a new music played and he saw a new spark in Marigold’s eyes. 

He smiled as he sighed “Don’t say anything; you go, burn the stage baby or something. I’m taking care of the mess here.”

“Gosh who’s the lucky friend now? Love ya love ya love ya !!!” he only heard the last sentence in a fading kind of way as the jet black-haired girl was already almost running to where the music was coming from, which brought a soft smile on his lips. 

He sighed once more, looking at the glass scattered across the floor that he has now to clean away. 

Once reaching the center of the room, near the music booth, she saw exactly what she had expected while running to the spot.

“Dean Thomas, I love you.” 

Said loved boy only smile in return, “I know babe. And it was worth arguing with the DJ to play it, even though it still is in theme, some people just don’t like to have fun somehow. But like, who doesn’t like flash-” the end of his sentence was interrupted by Marigold diving pretty harshly in his arms. 

The rush of her run had already brought attention to her, and the flashy demonstration of affection only intrigued more the other students, and as her arrival had been pretty fast the intro of the song had been only beginning. Other students began to join in. 

All summer long, during the part where Marigold’s friends had joined her at least, the goal between Dean and her had been to try to offer the nastiest version of the Cha-Cha Slide dance song. 

She’d won. Duh.

She was finally able to show off to a larger public this time, making sure that Cormac was watching her. 

Everybody began to clap in sync to the beginning of the lyrics, positioning themselves to dance on the has-been but catchy song.

The choreography was one of the ‘softest’ they were used to effectuate, but it still contained some... ‘alluring’ movements per say. 

But Marigold intended to only raise more and more the range of promiscuous-ish moves. 

Also, Dean and she indeed worked at the same place even though once there, they acted as they didn’t know each other – hated each other even – when they were to cross the other’s shift. And they knew load of shit in sexy dance moves.  
Anyway, the students around them had already formed a sort of circle, both dancing and watching from afar what the duo could offer with all the perfect and synchronised spins and the hips swings they performed, the public gave loud cheering and appreciation of what they were witnessing. 

Most of the modified steps didn’t really require any specific skills but being quite flexible and having a good balance. 

Marigold thought she was at the peak of her current happiness when, out of nowhere, Seamus grabbed his boyfriend hips and began to dance with him while Neville, Ginny and Luna appeared to dance with Marigold. 

They had followed all the choreography construction as well as the two teenagers after all. 

Some of the students tried to imitate the hot moves the duo had pulled out with the help of Marigold showing them. 

She caught sight of Dean and Seamus slowly waltzing in a less crowded spot. They’d stop the choreography and their choice of atmosphere detonated with the music. 

With his high heels – wore for the occasion – Dean could almost reach the eye level of his boyfriend; he had his arms wrapped around his nape while Seamus’s where wrapped around the small of his back. 

She was about to yell at them something like “HA-H, GAAAAAAAAY” but she noticed something and her legs suddenly felt heavy. 

The way they looked at each other, so tenderly it hurt. It was making her hard to breath. 

The look in Seamus’s eyes was sheer admiration, adoration even, he looked so proud. And Dean. Dean looked so loved, in love, happy and complete, right now in his boyfriend’s arms. They looked so whole and alive even they moved to a slow pace. 

In retrospect, it had never been like that when she still was with Cormac, nor even near this state of smug happiness. 

Of course they had shared moments of complicity but she’d never fully trusted him, not that he had helped with that. 

He had taken the habit to make fun of her and to belittle her as much as he could, minus all the time she had echoes of cheating material. She knew that at that time but had remained with him until it was unbearable. 

Their break-up had been quite fussy, between her friends trying to talk her into it for months on end, repeating her it was becoming more than really toxic for her, the other sixth year boys’ comments about her – Cormac had also took for habit to tell lies about their intimacy to load of his friends – he happened to be violent towards her and finally even Malfoy had been involved. 

Cormac had humiliated Marigold as he had tried to cheat on her with a lot of girls. Back then some of them went to tell her but she simply wouldn’t even listen to them, she was in denial, he couldn’t be doing that to her. Of course she saw he wasn’t caring about her as much as she cared about him, but they had been together during the end of the fifth year and the whole sixth year – seventh year for him. 

Eventually, he had tried with one girl too many, and it had been Malfoy. 

To this day, she’d never understood the white-blond girl’s reaction to this incident and didn’t try to look to deep into it. 

Luna grabbed her hands and Marigold understood she had let her mind wander too far. She wasn’t facing anything anymore, aware of her own puzzled expression, and when she frowned at the other girl, this latter explained that the couple had left for the dormitories. At that, she simply smiled and, as she abruptly turned away, she waved and pretended to be focused on something or more exactly on an invisible individual in the distance while pretending to go and talk to this person across the room, leaving Luna and the other enjoying the rest of their night. 

Yay, not awkward nor weird at all Potter, good job.

She rolled up her eyes at her own reaction. 

Her friends didn’t push by following her as they knew she sometimes needed alone-time, and today more than never. So once Marigold was out of shout-reach she dropped the fake smile she had keep not to worry them and slowed her pace. 

She hadn’t meant to go all gloomy but the alcohol didn’t help shutting down the ‘bad’ memories currently nonsensically flooding through her brain. 

Said useless brain started on its own a top 10 of the happiest moments she had lived with Cormac as she walked errand in the room, quickly followed with the worst ones. She forgot how it was to be sad-drunk. She desperately needed a distraction; else the pearls that peacefully hung at the edge of her eyes for now would dramatically fall down her cheeks for hours. 

She thought that sometimes she didn’t need to put up an act to be dramatic; her high sensibility was doing the job. 

That’s when she caught the sight of a dark isolated dot clashing with the white wall. Her feet simply and automatically took the lead, judging it was distraction enough, and she just had the time to wipe the threatening tears away and smudging her make up before finding herself at the side of Malfoy that was scornfully eying the crowd, her back leaning against the immaculate white wall. 

In one hand she carried a glass of dark beverage – which might have been brought by Malfoy herself for there hadn’t been any red wine at the alcohol table/bar.

pshhh what a princess

Her other hand tucked deep in the pocket of her leather jacket. Some strands of white-blond hair had fell in front of her eyes from her hood. 

Marigold urged away the drunk thought suggesting her that Malfoy looked like an ethereal living being, even though she was no longer confusing her for her dark prince. 

The other girl seemed lost among mortals as her complexion was ironically almost matching the wall but at the same time she couldn’t blend in it at all.

“Are you a Cullen?” her mouth blurted out. She got flat out ignored, not even sure she actually said it. 

And she’s just wearing a hoodie and a jacket. Like life didn’t have to try this hard. 

The bespectacled girl chose to lean against the wall as well, not facing the other girl, as if no sound had come from her mouth just seconds ago. 

“What do you want Potter? Can’t you tell I’m avoiding everybody and especially you on purpose? Leave me alone.” It was bitter but somehow very bored-like, as the actions of the jet black haired girl were this predictable. 

“Yeah I pretty much figured out all those death-glares weren’t supposedly inviting me to approach you-”

“And yet, here you still thought it would be a great thing to come to me then? How dense are you? No forget that, more important, how drunk are you? You can’t even stand. I saw you walking; you’re like a baby deer trying to walk for the first time. I almost feel sorry for your liver.” She didn’t sound like she was sorry for a bit. 

“Wh-What? I don’t know what you’re talking about; pshhh I’m a little tipsy at most. I never thought I would meet you at such an event, I had to make sure it wasn’t a mirage and that the holly Hydra Malfoy had granted us with her presence you know.” 

The look on the taller girl’s face seemed unimpressed by her soliloquy so she pursued, “Look, it won’t be long, I promise. I just- ughh, it just occurred to me – well,” she clicked her tongue, her hands messing up her hair “I couldn’t help but notice you had been through some... changes of appearance per say.”

“Oh my god,” she gasped “I can’t believe you have been gifted with the capacity of actively analysing your surroundings.” The taller girl dryly snorted. 

“Yes exactly, I’ve seen you, I watched you – gosh that’s creepy sorry” Fulvia only snorted “– anyway my point is I also noticed a change in your behaviour, not specifically towards me, but in general. It’s like you’ve shut yourself in or, I don’t know how to say it properly but you get what I mean. And I was wondering if it was because you experienced some inconvenience with your... body?”

The ivory-skinned girl raised her perfect eyebrows in genuine puzzlement, the previous sentence was longer thing without insults than all the combined exchanges the two girls had ever had since their first encounter, “Yes, indeed, as you can see I’m currently suffering from the unfortunate disease of a sprained ankle-” 

“No- that’s not what I meant...” Marigtold took a deep breath before stuttering and blurting out her thoughts, her hands still in her hair, “what I meant is – don’t get me wrong, usually I don’t listen to student’s gossip that much but there was a lot of hearsays about you – y-your new haircut, your new ‘even-colder-than-before’ attitude, the way you behave once out of the gates of the castle, the- the way you dress outside school even. And you smoke now?” She was referring to this later afternoon, when she had saw her wearing the unusual casual outfit, “The fact you stopped taking ballet classes, your late arrival to school, your ankle, and the way you got skinnier... People talk. I- I couldn’t help but wonder what could have happen to you and one thing leading to another I came to the conclusion – correct me if I’m wrong – that you might have experienced some sort of discomfort, disphoria with your body and that – maybe – you were... gosh okay... transitioning. And the reason you acted different towards me, I mean the way you didn’t provoked me anymore, or didn’t started arguments and all was that you were afraid for me to find out, which I still pretty much did by the way, and then I could use it against you when we’d fight? But I want you to know that I would never do anything like that. What you’re going through is valid, you are valid and I would never even think about using it as an argument against you, ever. So I just wanted to tell you that, yeah.” She ended her speech with a timid and hopeful satisfied smile on her lips thinking how she finally had the guts to say what had been on her mind for the past hours. 

The Slytherin girl stared at her for solid seconds, with a proper eyes-to-eyes contact for the first time since her return to the castle, taken aback by what she’d just heard, as it was far from being anything else she expected crossing the mouth of the girl next to her. 

“Are you mental?! That’s it, fuck, you’ve gone mad!” she dangerously bent over the girl, now fully facing her “Yeah you’re wrong, fucking wrong. You’re not my friend, hell you’re no one! No need to fucking analyse me, I dress and cut my hair the way I want, I owe you nothing. There’s no need to associate me to a category or to put me in a box the simple second I walk away from the ‘perfect-princess’ path I’m supposed to take, okay?” her voice had now dropped to a dangerous, cool tone, the talk had unlashed most of her insecurities without the shorter girl knowing, “I’m avoiding you because you’re ruining the air I’m supposed to breath in, okay?” she pointed an accusatory finger to Marigold’s chest, “Last year proved that nothing good comes when one stays too close – even in the role of a girl your boyfriend tries to hit on or whatever – to you.” 

She calmed down a little, “Yeah sorry not sorry for not still being a kid and leaving you alone in the childish arguments, but you’re genuinely wrong. Don’t go assuming things you don’t know shit about, with real struggles for people experiencing it. It’s no laughing matter. But right, I’m so glad you care this much about the life of the person you used to ruin every single day of since first year, first day of school, for six years now. You can’t even imagine how it warms my heart to know that. But once again, sorry not sorry to break your dreams, but you don’t mean that much to me, you have to stop thinking everyone’s life revolves around you for once it would do you good. And a note for later, even if I were to be vulnerable, I would still ignore your opinions.”

Progressively, as she listened to the girl, Marigold felt her legs go lighter and lighter and it was difficult to feel properly the insides of her own mouth. She still tried to hold her ground while facing the other girl’s harsh answer. 

Best timing ever for the alcohol to kick in. Ughhhhh

It was a weird feeling, Malfoy was finally back at her, in her past “normal” self, she had not seen her this alive since last year, so in a way she felt a reassuring feeling pass through her body that she urged away to focus on the cold words she had to hear. 

She had been wrong and she kind of felt bad for it but she didn’t have the time trying to answer in her turn to the girl. Malfoy had grabbed the collar of her shirt and was leaning in her face, throwing her poisoned opinion to her face. 

The mood had changed completely, even though Fulvia was theoretically in a disadvantage with her bruised ankle, she still held a position of power over her sworn enemy. How dared she disturb her when she was just chilling and avoiding anyone in the corner, not asking to be bothered by any single soul? She wouldn’t give up to violence, not if she could avoid it at least, but still the shorter girl was asking for her face to meet with the wall. So she chased her annoyance away and focused on making the other girl squirm with irritation. 

“Anyway, weren’t you supposed to be so self-aware about your body you wouldn’t even take swimming course with everyone? Like, did you trick the teacher in convincing them of that to avoid it? Where does all this self-confidence from yesterday and tonight come from?”

Shit.

Fulvia didn’t mean to talk about anything involving Potter, but the wine was getting in her head.

“Uh?” Marigold was taken aback by the turn of the conversation, but quickly followed, “First of all, you witness a lot of my glorious moments for someone who tries to avoid me at any cost, and FYI, I radiate self-confidence every step that I take okay?!” 

“Yeah, and ‘FYI’ alcohol is often a self-confidence booster, but guess what, the effect doesn’t last and you can get addicted so maybe deciding that the staff could have access to an unlimited amount of alcohol wasn’t such a good idea, or they should have put someone looking after your alcoholic arse. You’re ridiculous and making nonsense. And you’ll end a drunken mess exactly like your so beloved hobo professor.” Malfoy was back to her cold detached tone but not so detached words. She liked to hit where it hurt the most. 

Unfortunately for her recent blood thirst, the allusion to Remus flew over Marigold’s head, she focused on the other part of the accusation instead, “Pshhhht it’s not even- ha! I don’t even know what you’re- how could you- YOU are making nonsense!” she tried to point at the white-blonde with an accusatory finger in turn but couldn’t seem to aim at her. Maybe her vision WAS a little blurrier than usually. 

“Hello there ladies, having fun?”

The two girls separated awkwardly and seemed both perplexed by the new voice joining them, dropping their heated argument. They identified the voice owner and grunted in harmony – Cormac and his lot. 

Marigold unconsciously stepped in front of Malfoy more to face her ex than anything else, “What do you want?!” if she had spat at him, the impression would have been the same. 

Fulvia was a bit taken aback by the turn of the events for she was not used to hear Potter’s venom threw to anybody else than her and. She had really wished to be left alone for that night. 

“Watch your tone with me fatty, I have no business with you, calm your tits.” 

Marigold reddened at the appellation, contrasting with the confidence she claimed to have to the other girl with just seconds ago. 

The boy didn’t let her compose herself, he continued, changing of target. 

“Well, well, well, even you Hydra couldn’t resist Mari’s sweet fatarse? I have to admit you got some taste, and here I thought you were a frigid bitch. But in the end her slutty personality has even rotten you. I’d never think you would out yourself that way though. But I totally understand.” 

He fiercely grabbed Marigold’s cheeks, turning her face in a weird grimace, with pouting lips and helpless eyes, not daring to move, trying to keeping it low so she wouldn’t infuriate him. He kept talking to her with a patronising voice, “Aren’t you ashamed of yourself? Throwing yourself at the first person that would treat you like shit. You’re missing me that much, uh?”

The energy around them shifted. Fulvia thought it was so strange how the allegedly strong Marigold Potter was silent and bending under the abusing words of her ex-boyfriend, and in front of several eye-witnesses, McLaggen’s friends were enjoying the show just behind him. 

Fulvia was weirdly unpleased by the situation, the remarks about Potter made her skin crawl even though she couldn’t care less. It was more of the attitude a man was giving in public shamelessly. And because she couldn’t care less, she didn’t control the flow of venom that flew out of her mouth. 

“What have you come here for uh?” she took a false-pitying voice, adding, “somebody was lacking in self confidence today and decided it would be a great turn to make fun of a person that had cared for you in the past?” she now mollified her voice, “Who’s the good jock? Who’s the good trash mouth uh? It’s you, yeah it’s you!” she stepped in front of Potter, locking her eyes in the boy’s, their forehead almost touching. “You’d be kind to go fuck yourself before you’ll make a fool out of you. So gently fuck off, roam the room and go see elsewhere if somebody misses your fragile masculinity.” 

Marigold was stunned by the threatening aura Malfoy gave off, the air tightened around the small group as Cormac’s friends were now giving dirty looks to the slender girl. 

“What do you want, dyke?!” 

She emitted a silent snort, “Breaking news, my hairstyle doesn’t speak for my sexual orientation, welcome to the twenty first century guys.” 

One boy advanced towards her, balancing himself by putting his elbow on McLaggen’s shoulder, a threateningly dirty expression covering his face, “That’s not what we said, and know it’s not the first time people refer to you this way. Better get used pretty quickly because loads of people won’t consider not hurting your feeling anymore. Also I can try and convert you to the right path” He hinted her lower body and winked. 

Unimpressed, she smiled wider and stood even straighter, ready to end them and make them sorry about the sole day they entered this world for it was now personal. 

She felt something warm wrapping around her fingers, firstly like a shy presence that made her jolt with surprise, then the contact tightened and yanked her whole body backwards. She tried to keep balance without hurting her bad ankle.

“Funny how you treat her now when all those past year, during the saga of your sexual awakening, y’all tried desperately to climb her bed. And not only her bed, you crept around her and thought y’all were so subtle about it.” Marigold rolled her eyes at the forced irony, even it hurt her to admit in public she was aware of Cormac’s cheating attempts.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about scarred piece of fat. A bitch like you better shut up.” 

She false-innocently answered, “Oh, so if I go to McGonagall’s office, like right now, and complain about the sexual harassment some of the girl students were subjected to, you’ll see no problem against that, right?!” 

“Oh and what evidences do you have eh?!” The boy with the cocky attitude from before replied, arching a brow in total confidence. 

“Hm, I don’t know, I would say all the unsolicited dick-pic girls have saved in their galleries would be evidence enough what do you think? And by girls, I mean, with just Hermione, Malfoy here and I, there should be enough proof to make you appear as sexual predators preying on girls who didn’t ask for shit. Having your daddies up there in the Ministry won’t help you forever, and in this special case, it shall even bring them down. So shame on you for not being able to tame your dicks but as she said earlier, you can kindly fuck off.” 

With resignative eyes, the boys group left them and returned drink some more. Cormac’s eyes crossed Marigold’s and shudder went through her body; she broke contact with him before his back was fully turned to her.

“He always had been impossible when he drinks.” She couldn’t help the wave of shame washing over her; she’d had to face this public shaming in company of Malfoy, yay. 

At this moment she realised that the other girl had been awfully quiet for a while now. The white-blond haired girl was lying back against the wall, scrolling on her phone, maybe pretending nothing had happened. Somehow Marigold was glad she acted this way, but reading through the other girl expression, she saw she was about to say something but hesitated. Eventually she spilled it out.

“How did you know about the dick pic?” 

“Boys will be boys.” She cringed at the old fashioned expression that she knew tend to excuse too much of the toxic men’s behaviour, “I mean, I have some, Hermione has some, even Luna has some,” her tone hardened at the last revelation, “so it’d be only logical to think they sent you some seeing how much they lusted after you. And even though I’m not responsible for any behaviour other than mine, I feel truly sorry some girls have to literally face this kind of harassment.” 

“So what, you suggest we get rid of all men on the planet?” Malfoy’s tone was half mocking half serious.

“Hm, I mean, yeah why not it’s not like they get any wiser when they age.” She caught a glimpse of Malfoy body shivering violently for one second. 

“Yeah, whatever Saint Potter.” 

They locked eyes; Malfoy’s being all shades of storm clouds, making Marigold shiver in turn, then, the girl was gone with a dismissive slur.

Once alone, she looked at her hand, the one that had gripped Malfoy’s fingers on their own, and thought that the contact had been warmer than she would have thought – disturbing and totally unexpected even if she was the one who’d done it but warm still. Maybe her return to Hogwarts wasn’t that bad after all. 

No scratch that. She was drunk.   
As for herself, she returned to her dorm and took a short shower before curling up in her bed. The rest of the room was empty and spinning. All of her dormmates were either finishing the night with their “significant other”, or still in the Requirement room or wouldn’t simply come to bed for now.   
She’d go to excuse herself to the team tomorrow for living this early and not being able to properly help.   
She couldn’t help but feeling incredibly lonely, although she has been the one to leave. For once she fell asleep before overthinking it too much but deep down she knew the thoughts would creep on her as soon as back to consciousness. 

On the morning, she’d vaguely recall waking up in the middle of the night after hearing somebody shriek somewhere, and falling back asleep once again directly after that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Overthinking has a name, Marigold Jamie Potter. 
> 
> Basically, if it wasn't clear until now, Marigold is using cuss words when she's only in despair/distress or having one hell of a time. Else, she tries to change the slurs in imaginative sentences. 
> 
> I'm pretty satisfied with this chapter because we can see that Marigold is far from being a goofball and that she also has great worries and bad thoughts. Also Cormac is a little shit. 
> 
> For Seamus and Dean, I know it's not very in their usual characters but I decided to go with soft but still awkward Seamus and Dean who is pretty timid out of his friends group but once with them he's really that sweetheart always joyful and cheering ppl up and like great activist of LGBTQI+ rights and all being part of it. 
> 
> ***
> 
> So yeah, basically, it was very important to me to explain that Marigold being a girl and being raised by Sirius (& Remus) changes all the character of canon!Harry potter. The same goes for Fulvia, as a girl in the eyes of her father is not the same on her as it is on Draco, plus she deals with her own way with her rebellious stage and all. If you have any questions about how I proceeded in the choosing of the names or why they have their characters and temperament, just ask! 
> 
> It’s really important to understand that I like my characters deeply flawed, for every good side, there’s a dark/bad one.
> 
> No one:  
> Me writing this fic: the more they suffer, the more it shows just how much i love them :)


	6. Lurking truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW/ Fatphobia, homophobia, implication of past abuse, unsolicited sexual comments, eating disorder, anxiety/panic attack.

Nothing could be more infuriating than getting help from the person you hated the most. This is quite a universal statement. And when you were Fulvia Malfoy, getting any sort of sympathy at all was, in fact, the most infuriating thing that could happen – maybe more frustrating than infuriating, but still.

Something about an ego problem she was often told, but really, it was most likely to be a lack of self-worthiness (thanks Blaise’s therapist). But no one would bother to grab a metaphorical shovel and try to dig up to find the truth, to everyone’s sake she often thought.

Unfortunately, the past few weeks had showed her how miserable she could bring herself to be. She accounted all the people that had helped her, the list was dreadfully long. So, still in Hydra Lucy “Fulvia” Malfoy’s perspective, being defended by the golden girl, on top of all of it, was kinda the most effective thing to happen if she needed her day – even her week – ruined.

What was Potter’s deal anyway, speaking on her behalf, as if _she_ knew something about irresponsible grown up men?

She scowled it off and limped her way – too tipsy to mind and control it – through the Requirement room.

She leaned against a wall; turning her back to a good part of the crowd to face the view one of the window offered. Maybe this time it would really keep people away from her. She hoped so at least. She should’ve stayed with Blaise, but she wanted him to have fun and forget a bit about her.

Anyway, now she was still trying to manage her anger towards Potter, she would not start a fight with her any time soon. This year was different, this bullshit no longer mattered.

“Fuck her.”

“Yeah, haha, mood. What’s up with the ankle and the hair, gorgeous?”

Fulvia flinched and turned to see who had joined her in this isolated corner; people really _didn’t_ want to leave her alone tonight.

She rolled her eyes and hardened her tone, “Fear not,” she smiled falsely warmly, “you can also go fuck yourself McLaggen. Mind your own shit, I’m not missing any sort of your fragile masculinity, try somewhere else.”

“Oh c’mon, we’re on the same side now, snowflake.”

“What do you mean?” her tone was still poisonous, sneering at the unsolicited pet name.

“I can’t stand her scarred face too! What’s up with that, like how can she be suddenly comfortable about that? You can’t imagine how she always to keep her make-up on at all time to cover it and now it’s just on display also her hair is awful now haha. She’s got ugly, right?! So we’re on the same side you see.”

“I have more reasons than just her appearance to not stand her. Plus she can walk around looking like whatever pleases her; she’s not your thing and the same goes with all the girls around here you’re trying to replace her with. And besides, you weren’t so rebutted by her last time I checked.”

“Well, yeah. When we were together, she used to look less like a rag doll. I don’t know why she won’t cover her scar this year; really it’s disturbing to watch. Anyway that’s a shame for her face. She used to be pretty at least.”

She scoffed, “You’re the greatest misogynist arsehole and soulless piece of shit of all time.”

He took the opportunity to change the subject, his voice dropping lower, huskier, “You can drop the act, Hydra. The lone wolf aura doesn’t work the same when the rest of the pack isn’t there. Where’s the rest your crew by the way?”

“You’ll stick to Malfoy like everybody else.” She almost added the word _peasant_ but both her tone and her glare were implying it enough so she didn’t bother. “What act? Again, mind your fucking business.” Her voice grew colder and colder even though she couldn’t help the flow of words. She cursed her light constitution for allowing alcohol to intoxicate her faster.

“Yeah my bad, my bad, _Malfoy_. A lil’ tipsy, aren’t we?”

She wasn’t the only one being aware of this fact then. McLaggen now wore a nasty smirk. A feeling of dizziness began to gain her, the smell of expensive whisky licking at her nostrils even if there was nothing of the sort around.

“You didn’t accustom me to be this talkative. Would you mind coming with me so we could chat some more... intimately?” He was pointing outside with his hand holding a glass filled with a clear liquid.

She snapped out of it.

“Yeah, I see no problem whatsoever to follow you. Taking in account the fact you made sure of knowing that I lost my friends somewhere on the way and that my mind isn’t clear.”

“Oh, c’mon, are you playing the poor and defenceless little girl card now?”

“I don’t know; are you playing the predator one?”

“I won’t do anything to you I just want to talk. Come on.”

“That’s what they said.”

It was difficult to know if he was more annoyed by the last comment or her constant reject.

“I guess we’ll talk here then.” He mirrored Fulvia, leaning against the wall, facing her and closing the distance between them.

“Well, you know, I’ll just keep pretending the way you act so cold towards me is supposed to work and that I’m actually keeping myself away from you, ha-ha. Seriously though, you can drop it once you’ll be ready to take things more seriously with me.

“I know you fancy me. I’ve been noticing your glances all that time back when I was with Mari. And tonight you even came for me. Now I’m free, we’ve I broke up remember – I always suspected that it was what stopped you. I took care of it because I even have the kindness to play by your rules. Just so you know; I could have handled you both at the same time.”

“Ew, what in the fucking burning Hell?! You literally repulse me! The fuck are you talking about? Was it a special idiots’ assumptions night theme I didn’t know about? There was no glance. You’re a jerk who doesn’t have a bit of respect for women whatsoever.”

She hurriedly pulled herself from the wall and expended the space separating them. She rolled her eyes for the umpteenth time tonight. He tried to close the void between them and intended to reach up to her but she harshly smacked his hand away as if she had been already burnt in anticipation of the touch.

The light flashed before her eyes – and it had nothing to do with the spotlight in the room – her lungs were suddenly too small for the rest of her body. The smell of the boy’s beverage seemed to anchor itself into her whole system added to the fancy whisky one that seemed to come from nowhere. She could only phrase some words in a weak voice despite her efforts to maintain it as hard and clear as it has been few seconds ago,

“You have no respect for women. You play them and use them as you please. You’re a jerk and a liar and just a pile of garbage in a flesh suit. Get lost!” her breath was heavy,

“One minute you’re destroying your ex-girlfriend and the very next you’re hitting on me! And so you know, just because she won’t cover her face under I don’t know how many layer of concealer or something else, doesn’t mean you can act like she’s trash. At least, pretend to have a bit of respect for a fellow woman when you talk to one. That’s the basic decency of humanity.”

She tried to breathe in but the air still didn’t seem to be willing to reach her lungs, only a strong musk went through her nostrils, not helping her condition.

Why was she even trying to defend Potter again? She couldn’t remember.

Her ankle throbbed, her chest tightened, her look was distraught, she couldn’t see nor feel clearly what was happening around her.

As she was losing her balance she reached out for the wall but couldn’t find it. On the other hand, she helplessly met the floor, her knees taking the first impacts. She didn’t care for she couldn’t properly feel it anymore. She fought with all she had in her left against the hands that tried to grab her frame. The dizziness gained now her brain more and more. She could only hear muffled noises. However, a high pitched note rang consistently in her ears. She tried to stop it by flushing her palms flat against her ears, but it was useless.

Two firm hands grabbed her under her armpits. She rose from the floor and her body was flushed flat against something warm and steady for a change.

“Sorry, but you’ll have to put off this very lovely exchange I’m afraid.” The deep voice of Blaise finally came to her ears, in echoes, as if she were still far away from everything but muffled as underwater.

After going through a rush of unpleasant feelings in such a short time span, Blaise had come to help her, once again. In times like that, it always felt like a tormented ocean was washing her away, and he was her lighthouse, guiding her back to reality.

_The fuck is that, Malfoy?! Get a hold of yourself, damn._

She couldn’t quite come back in her body but she was much more aware of her surroundings now.

“And one last thing;” his voice turned in a threatening tone, now coming clearly to her ears, “McLaggen, noting happened.”

“Right.”

“Well, take care then.” A polite but strict small smile on his lips, the Slytherin boy closed an arm around Fulvia and walked out, bumping his shoulder in the other boy’s one.

Fulvia could only barely walk straight, but soon, Pansy and Theo were back at her sides. She was numbed out, only aware of Blaise’s warmth against her body. They looked like friends helping another friend when this latter had one ankle damaged but wanted to go somewhere else. She only focused on putting one foot after the other, careful to rely on her friend when the pain was stabbing at her leg like a thousand needles.

She absent-mindedly looked for a dishevelled head in the room while they all passed the main door of the Requirement room, but there was nothing like that to be spotted around. She couldn’t afford repeating last year drama and being once again involved with Potter’s shit.

The return towards the Slytherin common room was pretty quiet. Once they reached the main entrance, her friends escorted Fulvia towards her own bedroom, well away from all of the other dormitories, taking some hidden or forgotten never-ending stairs to reach it.

She opened the first heavy wooden door and left it to be shut by the last one crossing it. The small corridor couldn’t hold everybody in for, in all likelihood, its main purpose was to only block the noise coming from either of the sides of said door. Or so she assumed at least.

So she hastened to open the second door, to which the lock was a bit tricky. Once in the room, they all sat on the surfaces the furniture offered, Pansy knowingly opening the window and closing Fulvia’s dressing door before sitting on the window seat. Theo was on the desk chair, and Blaise and Fulvia on the bed, facing each other.

“How are you feeling?” the worry in Blaise’s voice was genuine. She checked on Pansy and Theo, quietly smoking and chatting in the background, politely ignoring the two friends but ready to blend in the conversation if needed.

“Well, I’m not going crazy anymore if that’s what you’re asking.” She sheepishly smiled, adverting her eyes.

“You know that’s not what I’m asking. We talked about that. You’re supposed to go through that; it’s nothing uncommon after what happened. And we also talked about how it would last for a while, not forever, and how you needed to acknowledge the way your body react to prevent it once and for all in a matter of few weeks. ” His tone was firm, “Did he touch you? Did he hurt you? What did you two talked about?”

“It’s fine!” she ignored the long-winded speech about her health, knowing he wouldn’t drop the subject until she resolved herself to see an actual therapist. “Don’t worry. Just because my body had a weird sudden reaction there was no need for all of this...” after a tight blank she added, “I appreciated it though, thank you guys.”

“Are you kidding?!” Pansy erupted in the exchange, after taking a small drag she kept going with a nasal voice, “Don’t thank us, we looked so fucking cool, we were like the fucking Matrix cast!” she released the smoke by her nostrils.

“I call dibs on Trinity!”

“Tsk, of course you would, Theo you prick.” Blaise tone encouraged Fulvia to laugh a little.

“Well, I take pride in being my own strong and responsible female figure!” He added smugly. Fulvia was fully laughing now. Knowing Theo had issues with his family and his mother in particular and making jokes around it was some really common for their group.

So, after some cigarettes and a good open hearted conversation about random subjects, they all went back to their respective dorms. 

“Call me if you need.”

“Don’t worry _dad,_ everything will be fine.”

Blaise smiled and rolled his eyes at the answer and kissed her on her temple before closing the last door and leaving her for good for the night.

Everything didn’t go fine.

She broke out in a cold sweat. Distraught, her limbs tangled in her sheets with only the glacial cry she had unconsciously let out echoing in the room. She was wide awake. She tried to switch on her bedside lamp and noticed only now that she was shaking like an anaemic leaf in autumn but wasn’t able to move any more than that.

She then tried to free her mind, only acting like a robot, like she had already done several times before, at Blaise’s, also in this very room with Blaise.

_Breathe. Breathe, you’re doing great._

She could hear Blaise’s voice on top of her own, helping her with counting the seconds between every deep breath.

_What you’re going through is normal, it happens. Master it. Focus. Great. Breathe again._

She focused on the half moon circles her nails had dug in her palms. Projecting herself around people that she loved, looking for the warmth they had to offer her. Distancing herself from all the blurry and appalling canvas her mind had made her abruptly woke up with. Now that she was less shaking, she could actually turn on the light after breaking free from her immobility, the warmth it projected in the room helped to sooth her.

_Hey, isn’t it like some progress?! See, you didn’t even have to call Blaise for help. That’s some major improvement. Congrats Fulvia, you’re a big girl now!_

She tried to cheer herself up, leaving the sheets of her bed, looking for the little clock-radio at the feet of her bed.

They all had gone to sleep around 2am, so with any luck, the sun would soon rise and she would only have to wait, like, thirty minutes before the Great hall would open.

_If there’s someone anywhere, please-_

3:46am.

_Oh, fuck it._

The Universe could go and fuck itself. At this point she knew it was useless to try and go back to sleep, for it meant going back to those horrible visions. Instead, she resigned herself to grab a book, a lesson, a paper; she really didn’t care. She lit up the small lamp on the floor besides the window seat – she really needed to arrange her room – she opened the window a little bit, wrapped herself up in a comfy blanket, and picked up the pack of cigarettes that had been left there, just besides the ashtray. And that’s how she spent the rest of her night, waiting for the first ray of sun; smoking and reading her thoughts away.

*

Mornings after having literally traded all of the 60% of water composing her body for alcohol sure didn’t make things easy-peasy-lemon-squeezy for her brain and her stomach. It was much more about being achy-achy-lemon-fucking-let-me-die. Last time she had done that it dated back to her last summer, in France, so few weeks ago in fact.

At that time, with her friends being as shit faced as her, taking all day – considering 2pm was the beginning of said day – to recover and getting back at it by dancing on the beach, only illuminated by the moonlight and the couple of streetlamps, everything seemed so peaceful. They would go back to Sirius’s summer house in the rather late evening/early day and smoke everything that was left to smoke, and sleep their ass off.

Looking back, it was fun. Trading bedrooms every two days, never facing the same person twice in the morning, she would go to sleep with Ron and Hermione, all of them sharing one of the large beds, to wake up with Luna just besides her, and Ginny on the floor.

This very morning she was alone in her cool dorm. The other beds were empty; there was no surprise such as finding one of her dormmates that had come back to the room way later than her.

She hadn’t closed the curtains and she had woken up with the light filtering through the windows.

Still in the nest of her warm blankets, she checked her phone, thinking of the delicious cappuccino she would drink for breakfast with something to fill up her hurting tummy.

_Oh, for Tinky Winky’s sake._

12:43am.

On weekdays, food was usually served from 12:30am to 1:30pm, sometimes 2pm if you were lucky enough. The Great hall was still open and one could take all the time in the world to eat, the kitchens would simply open close around that restricted time.

On Sundays, though, it was a different story. The kitchens served from 7:30am to 1pm non-stop. Every few weeks it was to a new house to help at the kitchens – they didn’t touch the food though – the lists of students helping were made by the houses themselves, so each and every student would have at least one Sunday morning to spend there in their school year. It was something about getting them involved and responsible around the school.

She stormed out of her bed, put on warm socks, sneakers, trading her pyjamas shirt for a bra, a simple large tee, the first warm cloth she could grab, a pair of sweatpants; all in this very order. It’s unnecessary to say that the sight of Marigold running in her room, trying to put sweatpants and tripping on herself while having sneakers already on was a certain degree of pathetic, almost worthy of the most famous Greek tragedies. All trace of gracefulness forgotten.

She didn’t bother with mascara and grabbed her glasses and her phone before rushing out of the dorms/common room/never ending stairs – why ô why did the Gryffindor tower was raised so high and so far from the Great hall? Must the ancient gods hate on her this hard?

12:58am.

“Are my poor mortal eyes deceiving me? Is it you, ô Sleeping Beauty to whom the wisdom and the virtue remain unequalled?” 

“Oh please, choke on your own dick Weasley! My head still hurts so if you could shut it for like, the rest of my life that would mean a lot to me. Thanks sweetheart.” 

The table around them was hollering with not-so-contained laughter at the uncalled roast.

“Still a prick after waking up I see, nice to know nothing will ever change. Somebody didn’t quite sleep well.” Ginny was poking at the food on her plate.

“Oh, c’mon are you trying to defend your brother’s shitty honour now? It’s not like I had the best of the nights. ”

“Calm down, four eyes, I can’t hear what you’re saying over all the whining. Last night happened what happened and you could do nothing about that, and I’m sure it’s nothing personal.”

“I don’t have any idea what you’re going on about?” she chuckled, genuinely puzzled, “Are you challenging me, Weasley number two? You know I can take you.”

Other people around the table started to join in, while Ron was too focused on his first sulking session of the day.

“Ouh, it’s getting kinky.”

“Humph, Dean, don’t get involved, we said no kink shaming under this roof.” Hermione sarcastically scolded.

“But you know that kink shaming is-” Dean was cut off as if he was only part of the background noises.

“I’m serious, Ginny, not the part about fighting you but about what you said allegedly happened last night. Did I do something and blacked out. Because I have no recollection whatsoever about something that would make me upset apart from talking with this dick head over there.” She hinted at her ex boyfriend somewhere in the great hall, “OMG don’t tell me I danced naked in front of everybody again, tell me I went to bed before exposing myself, please, please, please.” Marigold was out of breath, fear creeping up more and more in her mind with all the scenarios getting wilder and wilder.

“Chill, mate, breathe,” She spoke, addressing the gathering of friends around the table now, “I’m not the one breaking it to you.” Ginny went back to poking her plate.

“Not it!” “NO iT!!!”

They all spoke at one time.

_Okay, wow, now it’s getting serious. What the actual shit did you do last night Potter?!_

After a heavy silence that seemed to last two decades, everybody seemed far too interested in the content of their plates when the sweet voice of Luna popped in.

“Is it my knitted sweater you’re wearing?”

“Uh,” Marigold looked down at her clothes; unsure of whom it belonged to back when she had had to put it on, “I didn’t know, my bad Luna, I found it-”

“Take it off!” Ginny burst in, in turn. She hadn’t bothered to look at her messy haired friend until now and the look of her face was cold.

Marigold scoffed, not knowing if Ginny was being serious, “What?!”

“Did I fucking stutter?” She was being extremely serious judging by her iron glare. “It’s not yours, so take it off.” 

Luna tried to intervene, but her sweet voice was no use.

“What?! Are you for real now? Mate, I was telling you. I found it in a pile of clothes, I had no idea. What it is to you, you’re probably even the one to have forget it there. You don’t understand how fast I rushed down here not to miss lunch. There was no point looking for my own clothes??”

“Well, you could easily have avoided it by coming on time then.” The previous subject being dodged, Ginny had returned to her natural aggressive game of speech with Marigold.

The others had just watched in silence, letting the two get their usually heated argument of the day, but it was dangerously drifting towards a more serious tone.

“Okay, Ginny, time out...”

“Oh shut it, Ron. Don’t go full manly-handling the situation and big brother on me now.”

“Yeah, Ron,” Marigold added accusingly, “Let her finish. It seems to take a very interesting turn. What do you mean by that, Ginny?”

“Okay, for real now, girls, you’ll end up regretting going too far. It’s better if you stop here for today, don’t you think?”

“Yeah Marigold, do as Hermione says, be a good girl and don’t dig too far. You won’t be able to take it anyway and you’ll end up getting too high to know how to cry.”

“Ginny!” Ron tried.

Pure venom, Marigold was taken aback.

“Oh, I see. So, this is what it is really about. I see now. How caring of you.” The last sentence conveyed more sarcasm than the whole Daria cartoon TV show.

“I’m glad your brain is still functioning and you can form irony still, that’s very impressive according how you try so hard to destroy it,” the girl wouldn’t back down now, “We’re not in holidays anymore. You can’t just get wasted on every occasions you get, else let me show you one or two dark narrow alleys in Hogsmeade where you could finish your trashy life with your shitty plant and alcohol. Here we have a fucking team counting on you; you’re supposed to take us to finals. But all you ever do is relying on me and your fucking psycho of an ex for taking the lead of our team.”

“Enough Ginny! You’re going too far.” Seamus, usually quiet on serious matters and standing as far away as possible from any form of drama, chose to break it off once and for all by going back to where the conversation started, “Look, you didn’t do shit yesterday, don’t worry about that, and nothing really happened. If you didn’t hear anything by now it’s a good thing, and you probably won’t hear about it. But if you do, I think it’s not personal. Anyway, there’re rumours going on about McLaggen and Malfoy. Some people saw them talking last night and assume a lot of things, as they always do. Now, if you’re not feeling well, go lie down and drink a lot of water. I left some aspirin in the usual drawer.”

It was the last straw, everybody was avoiding her eyes.

Luna was trying to calm Ginny by muttering something to her and rubbing her arm.

Ron looked the most uncomfortable, not knowing how to handle something like this or which side to take if there was even a side to take in the first place.

Hermione couldn’t help but having this ‘I-told-you-so’ expression Marigold knew she tried to hide and repress as much as possible. She knew full well Hermione’s aim wasn’t to hurt her in the first place and she also knew the girl had difficulties not taking her victories, even when they were about bad statements.

First the pointless accusations, then whatever was the thing involving Malfoy and Cormac. Too much, literally too much for the state Marigold was in. She breathed in, grabbed her tray and before leaving, put it back down so she could carefully take off Luna’s sweater.

“I’m sorry for borrowing it and putting it on without you knowing Luna, I didn’t mean it.” she said with her eyes locked in Ginny’s. Her voice was as calm as the waters of the Great Lake on windless day. She tried to repress the shiver that only the thin but large tee top couldn’t chase away.

Then, she eventually took her tray and walked towards the wall, a bit farther and hidden from the tables, where the trays were discarded. She turned to leave once and for all the Great Hall but collided with something, well, someone.

“For fuck’s sake! Watch it scarhead!”

“Well, I’m really sorry Parkinson, believe me! I didn’t smell any of the sex and musky scent of the harem usually surrounding you, how could I know you were here.” She closed her mouth in a sardonic smile. Today was too much, there were no longer any fuck in store.

Parkinson grabbed her by her collar and yanked it against her body, their faces close.

“It is always the same with you; you don’t know where your place is. I’m not the one everybody says sleep around with anyone who’s got a cock.” She literally spitted at her face and let go of her hardly enough for Marigold to take few steps back, letting the now misshapen collar of her tee fall back in place. She waited for Parkinson to leave before wiping out the dirty gob off her face and dry her hand on her sweatpants.

She then proceeded to gain back her dorms, keeping her head high and avoiding glances. There were only few people at this hour anyway. And nobody could have seen them hidden behind the wall. People were still murmuring things as she passed.

She collapsed head and stomach first on the bed, kicked her shoes. She struggled to remove her glasses without her hands in a way that she could attempting a reproduction of the nothern elephant seals courtship ritual.

_Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry._

She let out a grunt of frustration and rolled on her side, checked her phone.

_Geez Louise._

Her head hurt and she had forgotten to grab the aspirin box in the Common Room, but was too lethargic to move out of her bed. She’d have to do without.

There was a bunch of messages from yesterday and this morning she hadn’t opened yet. Sirius, Sirius, Sirius, Ron, Dean, Dean, Sirius, Parvati, Sirius, Sirius, Sirius, Sir- ugh, he’d answer to him later but still opened the others’ ones. Some new memes, ideas for work, and her weekly meeting reminder for a tarot session she had asked to come and consult tonight.

She posted two videos that were in her draft on her social platform but turned off the notifications.

She then lay on her back; her arms stretched and tried to think of what happened at lunch without crying. She knew her friends were angry at her for messing with her own health, she knew they were just worried about her well being and her capacity to treat herself right. Her poor choice of decisions could totally explain the worry they had. From her last boyfriend – anyway she wasn’t thinking about Cormac right now; fuck him – and her secret side job, and a bunch of other things she was supposed to be underage for.

It made her sad to know she worried them, but this year she had taken new resolutions, as in the lines of accepting her scar by wearing less make up and get rid of her bangs and cutting her hair sorter, in a forever messy bob, so she wouldn’t hide behind it, she also took more care of avoiding the toxic situations, as well as ignoring the second hand guilt towards others.

It was a new school year of truths.

She scrolled through some other social networks, mindlessly liking a bunch of pictures when she fell across one that belonged to a certain model agency.

She liked to take photograph herself, of people even more than landscapes, so it wasn’t that odd, but in all honesty, it wasn’t any kind of model agency account, Ron had been right.

It has been quite a while it hadn’t popped in her feed, so she had forgot about it. She had followed the account because of a certain person working for this very agency.

You know what they say, keep your friends close and your enemies closer or something.

Anyway, it hadn’t been enough to spy on Malfoy, so she had ended putting her pride aside and has sent a following request to the girl’s account. She could still remember the strange looks from Malfoy towards her the week it had happened, but she had lain low and her request was eventually accepted.

She hadn’t checked the app for a long time now, maybe Malfoy had posted some new pictures. She slid on her account. Same last post as last time, nothing updated.

_Ah, she still had her long hair; I really wonder what happened for her to cut it, she was so proud. Woah, I never saw this one. How come she appears so???And she clearly doesn’t wear any make-up. She seems so serene in this other one. She seems to be a perfect model, what kind of calm face is that?! How come she never looks like that! Eh, I wonder what’s she’s thinking about in this one?_

“Don’t you have a shift at work tonight? I saw your schedule on your bed frame earlier.”

Marigold gasped in surprise and threw her phone away as Hermione had clearly entered the dorm and she hadn’t heard her, too absorbed in her previous... activity? 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you!” she raised her hands in apology.

“No! Err no, it’s okay; I was in my head that’s why I- Well never mind. No I changed my shifts, I no longer work on the Sunday nights.” Marigold stepped out of her bed to look for her phone that had been catapulted somewhere in the room, so she would have to do something and not stare at Hermione with awkwardness.

“Oh, okay, cool, that’s better- Uh I mean, well I’m not saying it’s bad or-”

“‘Mione, it’s okay, I know how you feel about that, and I don’t want you to lie to me. Yeah well, I came to the conclusion that working on the Sunday nights was really dooming my chances of starting a new week of school with the required amount of energy and yearning, or whatever.” She laughed.

She picked up her phone, finally located under a shelf and went back on her bed, closing the application for good, without looking suspicious. 

She knew Hermione was trying to talk about something and also she didn’t feel like making it easy for her, so she opened her and Sirius’s chat.

“Mari, look,” _And here it comes..._ “About earlier, you know Ginny didn’t mean it. She didn't mean much of it at least. You know she's counting on a scholarship and even on being recruited for some college or something like that – Ron told me about the exact name but I keep on forgetting it – so it's growing on her,” she heavily sighed, “What I’m trying to say is that, nobody is against you-”

Marigold scoffed despite her best efforts, “No, excuse me. You’re right, go on.” Her smile wasn’t very enthusiast and encouraging.

Hermione went on, “So, she really wants what’s best for her and her future as well as for you and you know how she feels around all-,” she vaguely gestured in Marigold’s direction, “-err that.”

“Yeah, whatever, I already know that. And it’s not like I asked for what happened at lunch.” She said dismissively.

“No, I know, but she just felt-”

“It’s okay Mione, I’m not mad at her. Don’t worry. You can go back to the library and finish your homework; your chemistry book is here by the way.” She held out said book that had been buried under some clothes, while uselessly scrolling on her phone with her other hand.

_Brain. Must. Remain. Busy._

Hermione grabbed it and tried to hide the fact she was relieved the discussion had lasted only few minutes, ashamed of being put in front of the fact that she’d rather go back to her homework than keep trying to resolve dramas that kept coming and going lately.

“Hey,” Hermione looked up at the call, “it’s gonna be okay Mione, don’t worry about it. You don’t have to meddle in; I know you don’t like that.” Marigold warmly smiled at her, which Hermione returned, a little bit uneasy. She wanted to believe her friend, but alas, drama seemed to always follow their group like their shadow. 

Hermione opened her mouth and closed it several times, looking for something to say before leaving her friend on her own, with her thoughts, alone, after a quite big argument. Perfect.

“Will- err, will you join us tonight for dinner?” she had turned around, knowing how of an over thinker Marigold could be

“Hm, I think I’ll pass but thank you!” she smiled to her.

“O-okay, I’m off then, see you around I guess.”

“Yeah.”

_Yikes, awkward,_ they both thought. Hermione usually didn’t stutter this much, or at all for that matter, neither she hesitated when she needed to say something.

Once the door was closed, Marigold concentrated on the bunch of message Sirius had sent.

Yesterday

[7:17PM] **Padfooty :** Do you happen to know what’s up with Remus???

[7:18PM] **:** He won’t answer to my texts or my calls??????

[7:56PM] **:** Petal pie?

[8:43PM] **:** Ma belette????

[9:24PM] **:** Marigold????????? Could you answer you phone?

[1:52AM] **:** Why would the only two loves of my life ignore me? Did I do something again?

Today

[10:24AM] **:** Look what I found! [image received][image received]

[10:24AM] **:** You were so tiny, so smoll. <3 <” <3

[10:25AM] **:** <3*

[2:47PM] **Ma belette :** sorry, i didn’t check my phone for a while

[2:47PM] **:** where did u find that

Marigold voluntarily ignored the other messages and only focused on the two last texts.

It was two pictures of her, as a baby around one, maybe younger, in Sirius’s arms, wearing a red pyjama and Sirius wearing blue jeans and a worn out faded pink shirt.

In the first one, she stood up, Sirius holding her hands, facing each other, looking up to him and him facing down with some strand of hair falling in his face from his messy bun. Both of them looked very pleased with the other. He seemed so young.

The other picture must have been taken shortly after, both of them were on a bed, but there was also Remus in this one. He had one knee on the bed, holding Sirius’s shoulders as this latter held Remus’s head and they shared a tender chaste kiss. Marigold was still in Sirius’s laps and was playing with Remus’s tie, falling down around her face.

All of them seemed peaceful and happy. All of the shit that would happen later was nowhere in sight of course, still she felt more than sad but couldn’t describe it.

Marigold got a new strange feeling in her heart. Maybe her biological parents were still alive at that time and were the one taking the picture, maybe they were already dead, and crushed under their house, already burnt by the fire that a lightning storm had started, only leaving the baby that she was to live.

[2:52PM] **Padfooty :** It was in the old album, the one in the library.

[2:53PM] **Ma belette :** oh okay

[2:54PM] **:** i don’t remember

[2:58PM] **Padfooty :** So?

She wanted to dodge the subject so badly. But she couldn’t ignore it forever, so, as much as she hated how things would get in few seconds, she also really wanted for this to be over with.

[3PM] **Ma belette :** so what?

[3PM] **Padfooty :** You know what this is about. Do you know if something happened with Remus?

[3:01PM] **Ma belette :** hm, idk did

[3:01PM] **:** did u try to call him instead?

[3:02PM] **Padfooty :** He. Won’t. Answer.

[3:02PM] **:** Marigold, tell me what happened. I have super powers remember? I can tell. I’m a psychic.

[3:03PM] **Ma belette :** yeah right i forgot about that

[3:10PM] **:** maybe i fucked up

[3:11PM] **Padfooty :** I’m sure it’s okay, Mari. Tell me about it. You know I’m here for you no matter what right?

_Maybe not forever though._

[3:15PM] **Ma belette :** no, like, i fucked up big time, i’m so sorry Sirius

_Okay, here we go._

[3:16PM] **:** he knows about the hospital bills and I know too

[3:16PM] **:** im so so so so so sorry Sirius

She decided to unleash everything, she had already started anyway.

[3:18PM] **:** so, he called me in his office

[3:18PM] **:** and we talked like i thought i did something wrong

[3:18PM] **:** but then the subject drifted and he told me you hadn’t answered some of his texts for a while during the summer and it was weird because first of all you didn’t see each other at all for a while and normally that doenst’ even happen

[3:19PM] **:** and maybe it was because of your visits to the hospital, idk

[3:19PM] **:** so i told him about it

[3:19PM] **:** i had no idea he didn’t know

[3:20PM] **:** i thought you had told him like you didn’y tell me but at least him idk

[3:21PM] **:** like maybe you didn’t told me because of idk, things but like at least you would have told him you know because he’s your lover and you’re both adults and he was with you all this time when it happened before

[3:21PM] **:** he tried not to be angry at me but you know his temper when it’s about u so we fought about it

Sirius didn’t answer for a while, but the notification _read_ was visible under every text.

[3:22PM] **:** but we’re okay now

[3:23PM] **:** i think

She felt awful, she was scared of what would happen next. Soft tears began to roll around her nose. He vision got blurry.

[3:24PM] **:** Sirius isw ear im so sos o so sorry

[3:36PM] **Padfooty :** It’s okay Mari, I love you. Don’t worry. I’ll talk to him. I’m so sorry you had to be put in such a position. I’m so sorry you had to learn it this way, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I’m alright. You shouldn’t have been caught in between, and I’m the one who fucked up big time here. Don’t worry please. Try not to think about it. We’ll continue this conversation another time, I’m sorry and can’t give you answers right now. don’t worry about Remus, I’ll handle him

[3:37PM] **:** He can’t resist my charms ;)

[3:37PM] **:** But again, I’m sorry, ily.

She smiled a little at the last two messages, a quiet giggled mixed with a bitter choking on her tears increasing the size of the knot in her throat.

She locked her phone and buried herself under the sheets of her bed. She set her alarm for 5:30.

Even though Sirius had reassured her a little, she eventually let the frustration of the day get to her and fell asleep with tears hanging at the corner of her eyes, without really being able to differentiate which tear belonged to which issue.

**

“Hello Miss Malfoy, how are you feeling in this Sunday morning? Did you find your marks back?”

“Hello professor Dumbledore. I’m fine, thank you.”

He offered a warm smile before inviting her to take a sit in his office.

“Do you want a candy? A mint?” To which she politely declined. “Maybe it’s a bit early for that, or late if you plan to have lunch after this. So, tell me a bit about the _updates_ ” he made a jazzy hand gesture saying it, “that happened since Friday. You told me there were things you had to do in Hogsmeade. Feel free to tell me how you are feeling. I know it can be tough so my offer to talk to any professionals I can get in touch with still stands, Miss Malfoy.”

She tried hard to remain poker-faced, but the series of weird actions the old man had just pulled took her by surprise and it suddenly was the hardest endeavour of her life. She chose to answer with a flat tone instead, “I’m fine. I went in town yesterday, to the bank and did what I was advised to with my account. Thank you. And I’m settling for French classes as I already intended to, Blaise will help me and I know French already I had a French au pair for a while. I’ll take the same class as he does as it’s the same coefficient as the ballet one. So I won’t need to take another new subject.”

An uncomfortable silence followed. Dumbledore had an impish expression, implying he yet waited for Fulvia to carry on, except she didn’t know what it was about. The feeling of awkwardness grew more and more.

Dumbledore broke the silence first.

“Well, for those parts I’m glad to know everything is more under control. But I was wondering if you had time to reflect on the suggestion the professor Snape gave you, what I also mentioned?”

“What are you- How do you know about that?”

A shadow passed over the old man’s face and he was suddenly much more solemn.

“Your situation is something to worry about Miss Malfoy, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about this, but yes, I had a discussion with professor Snape for I know you two are close.”

She felt the heat of shame wash over her face. She remained quiet still.

“He didn’t betray you, per se, I was the one engaging. I couldn’t let you alone. I wanted to know if he knew about what had happened to you.”

The bitter taste in her mouth progressively left, but there was an itchiness she couldn’t quite get a rid of for now. She raised her chin in a proud manner “Believe that I am really grateful for the concern you’re all bringing to me and let me know if there is anything I can do to thank you.”

“Oh, young lady, I only wish for you to be in a better situation and that you never had to go through all of that.”

Only her lips rose in a polite smile, “I have a call to give in the afternoon to my aunt. I believe she knows plenty about lawyer and barrister. Thank you. I will go now if it’s okay?”

“Yes, you may go, of course! I’m glad to know that. See you in a bit, yes?”

She hastily nodded before leaving her sit and Dumbledore office.

_Don’t think. Don’t think. Don’t think. Focus and find a spot._

This time Fulvia took care of not knocking anybody down, choosing a slower pace and avoiding once again her limping. She crossed the way of many students but ignored their glances. She finally settled near a window, hidden in a forgotten part of the East aisle and lit a cigarette.

***

“He’s so weird. I can’t with him. He’s just a beard, rambling nonsense.”

“Yeah, well nothing new.”

Fulvia had joined Blaise and Theodore that were waiting for Pansy. The former boy mindlessly kissed her hair around her temple as a greeting, she had sat down beside him in the Great Hall, “You smell like an ashtray.”

“Thank you, that’s my new expensive liquid soap.” Fulvia faced the other boy, “Where’s Pansy?”

“She forgot her phone on her tray, again, so she’s looking for it.” Theodore answered, his eyes focused on his phone, one earphone in.

“You already ate?” Blaise’s tone claimed to be nonchalant, but Fulvia wasn’t fooled. She knew he was worried about her and looked out for her; still, she tried to control her furrowed brows.

It was 1:37pm, it was clear all her friends around and away from the table had finished eating. She hadn’t. But they didn’t have to know that.

“Yeah, on my way back from Dumbledore I grabbed a sandwich in Sevs’s rooms. He wasn’t there though; but I left a note.”

Blaise didn’t looked quite convince at all and Theo was too busy keeping his eyes glued on his phone to mind.

“Okay, good.”

She felt bad for lying to Blaise; after all he had done for her.

Theo jumped in, totally unaware of the tension growing between the two best friends, as the perfect distraction, “So, how do you find your new room so far? Does it still smell like fresh paint?”

“No, it’s perfect. Thanks again! I need to unpack for good. Let me treat you for something next time in Hogsmeade. That would be the least I could do.”

He wasn’t fazed at all by her solemn tone while his was joyful and warm, “Nah, we don’t care. Just let us hang out there from time to time. That would do it.” he added with a wink, raising his eyes for the first time since the beginning of their conversation. He was able to catch a glimpsed of the dark circle under eyes of the girl before coming back to his phone. If Blaise’s personality and love for the girl was shown by worrying in silence and be sure to protect her any instant, Theodore’s affection for her was more blunt, “Nightmares again, huh?”

Blaise winced at that and threw him a death glare, silently writing his friend’s eulogy in his head.

“Yeah, I mean, what else can I expect from the ‘traumatic experience I went through’?” She finger-gunned him to what he excitedly replied, finger-gunning her in turn, “trauma bonding check!”

Blaise rolled his eyes at the two but said nothing. Theodore was one of the very few people able to pull a “dorky” personality out of Fulvia, so he never commented on their exchanges.

With Theo, Fulvia was able to joke around lightly and authorised herself to be like other teenagers, the grieving sorrow of her youth long time forgotten.

As he was showing several videos he had saved on his phone to show Fulvia, Blaise’s gaze wandered around the different houses’ tables. Then, he spotted a fulminating Pansy coming back to them.

She gracefully sat at the table with them, her anger pouring out of her facial expression. Fulvia really thought a glare could kill and Pansy was the one who had made her believe so years ago.

Just like with Fulvia, Theo was the one who could handle her furry just fine, “What happened, princess?” the nickname was originally ironic but stayed as the years passed.

“Ughh, Fulvia I swear I’m gonna kill your girlfriend!” Fulvia chocked on her saliva, knowing perfectly who Pansy was referring to, “I’m going to shove her fucking audacity down her throat and she’ll slowly die out of air and I’m gonna enjoy watching her suffer.”

“SHE’S NOT- she’s not my girlfriend for fuck’s sake!” she tried to hide her blush mixed with disgust while Theo and Blaise just silently raised their eyebrows in a doubting expression. Fulvia still tried to defend her point, “You know I hate her as much as you do and I’d gladly watch her shut up for good with you! I hate her so much, she’s just an attention whore who tries to start fights just for the fun of it and to get away with a smile, and it must be exhausting to be her! I hope her ego consumes her!” she was just throwing arguments after one other.

“We know Vee, don’t worry, Pansy’s just teasing,” Blaise stroked her forearm in an attempt to sooth her, “So what happened this time?”

****

Fights between their own friends group and Potter’s one were really a weekly event since their very first year attending this school, from just loud words to throwing hands in the middle of the corridors. Generally it happened between periods and on a basis of 1v1 but it also happened by the past, when it involved Cormac, Potter and Fulvia for example, that more people found themselves in the middle of a fight.

It had been the worst day of school occurring last year. Every single person composing the friends group found themselves at the infirmary later on. Even the usual _pacifists_ ended up wounded.

It had started with Potter coming for Fulvia after this latter had let a note in Potter’s locker explaining the disgusting behaviour of her ex-boyfriend, well boyfriend at the time. 

Fulvia couldn’t remember how the _conversation_ had really started; just some yelling and insults threw at her face while she was just chilling with her friends sitting outside in the sun against the castle walls.

Potter had nearly burnt herself with Fulvia’s cigarette when she had yanked the girl’s button shirt, bringing their faces close to spit something at Fulvia’s face.

The rest of the golden trio was not long to follow but a few more people were also tagging along, Potter’s other Gryffindor friends.

Fulvia had no chance to strictly understand what was threw at her face but could easily imagine it had a certain link with the older Gryffindor boy

Potter was dating. Anyway, regardless of the words spoken, the first hit connected with her cheek and threw her off balance. It also proceeded to anger her as it was uncalled for. Fulvia hit her in turn, landing a good right in the nose, still ignoring the noise around her.

At some point, their respective friends tried to separate them, but snarky comments were thrown, again, and it was all they needed to turn in an orgy of violence.

Eventually, the people gathered around, who got their attention caught by the hubbub, had called the professors.

To this day, what happened exactly was still blurry in Fulvia’s mind.

What’s important to know is that somehow the fight ended and every single one of the involved students were sent to the infirmary after being promised to spend some time in detention and doing some work around the castle as to make amends for the disturbance caused and their awful and unexampled behaviour.

*****

“Well what happened is that this little bitch thinks she can speak however it pleases her without any consequences. I just put her back in her place as more people around here should.” With these last words she, glanced knowingly at Fulvia.

_Shit._

Potter was not the only one who had noticed how Fulvia avoided confrontations since her return. Not that it was bad, per se, just weird, uncanny.

“What?! The further I am from her, the longer I will be in peace. There’re only unnecessary issues coming at us when she’s involved.”

“Mh-hm.”

Theo interjected, “You got a point. Also she’s getting clout on her social media, so maybe that’s why she thinks like that. That’s lame.”

Blaise scoffed while Fulvia eyeballed him, visibly disconcerted. Pansy’s eyes left the screen of her phone for a hot second, “You follow her? _You’re_ lame!” she mocked.

“What?! No! I don’t!!! It’s not me, it’s her. She’s all over the place!! I consistently fall on her vids just because we’re in the same area. Come on, guys.”

“It’s okay fanboy, we don’t shame under this roof, you shall be washed off your sins now that you’ve confessed.” Followed Pansy, eyes glued back on her phone, with a solemn voice to which both Fulvia and Blaise chuckled, keeping nagging Theo with bad imitation of Potter.

Fulvia was glad for the shift of attention. Her phone buzzed and she saw a new text appear on her screen.

“Oh shit.”

Blaise looked over her shoulders, “Oh! It’s Mark from the agency. Say hi from me.”

“That’s good, right? What does he want? He wants to see you?” Theo asked.

“Yeah yeah, it’s good. He has a new contract for a shooting. But, I don’t know if I should-”

“Well, you said you needed money right? For the attorney or whatevs?”

“Theo, don’t pressure her!”

“It’s okay, Blaise. Don’t worry. Yes, Theo, that’s good, but, how am I supposed to explain all that?” she vaguely gestured at her face, hair and legs.”

“What? You didn’t tell him? Haven’t you, like, kept in touch with him this summer?” Pansy was truly puzzled.

“Well, he’s my manager, not my best friend. It’s not like we have sleepover.”

“You facetime him! And you don’t even facetime me.” She sounded falsely wounded.

“It’s not like you’re worth it, Pansy.” Blaise blew a kiss at her.

“Oh, fuck you, bitch boy!” she scoffed, “see what I mean?” as Fulvia phone screen turned into a facetime request.

She excused herself as Blaise and Pansy kept bickering in the background. She vaguely acknowledge Potter’s friends without Potter ( _weird_ ) on her way out of the Great Hall, and she ignored them as much as they ignored her except for the female weasel who chose to indecently glare at her. Fulvia could see the girl’s head turning, following her motion as she went her way out of the room, until... “Ginny!”, a shouted whisper.

Fulvia kept a straight line, ignoring them still despite the provocation.

By the time she got to the bathroom of her bedroom, she had ignored the two first calls from Mark. She passed cold water on her face, checked her reflection in the mirror and try two, three fake smiles. Satisfied with what she saw, she answered the call as she went to sit on her window seat, opening the window a bit and lighting a cigarette. Her back against one of the two walls cornering the window, one leg folded against her chest and the other _problematic_ one, hanging from where she sat.

Mark answered, his face buried in a pile of paperwork trying to find something between all the mess she assume his desk was under.

“Hi, sweetheart, it’s been a while and you’ve been hard to get. How are you? How’s the house, are you back to school, how was your summer? Fuck, where’s that contract again?” some papers flew off his desk, “Anyway, I just wanted to call you because we’ve been contacted by this very brand of- OH MY FUCKING SWEET GOOD LORD WHAT HAPPENED?!?!?!”

Fulvia anxiously released the smoke from her mouth as she was looking for words to explain the delicate situation she was in. She opened her mouth and met Mark’s eyes through the screen of her phone. She knew the man enough to say she had never seen him relaxed or close to it even once, but the look he gave her made all the words she could gather escape her once again. She stub out her cigarette in the ashtray, and tried to word some excuse but didn’t even have the time to stutter an syllable for Mark came out of his shocked state.

“What the actual fuck happened Fulvia? It’s not like you to change your appearance and not saying anything about it to me! You know your hair was your trade mark? How could you do that without telling me?! What am I supposed to say to our clients? We can’t find any wig as perfect as your hair and you know it, we tried by the past. Oh my god, okay, okay I’m hyperventilating now. OMG I can’t believ-”

Fulvia disconnected from the call. Answering had been a mistake. She knew she should’ve warned him. She had tried.

_Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuc-_

He was calling her back and sending her texts at the same time.

_A fucking mistake._

__I'm posting them again bc i need to be sure everyone see them, i love them so so so so much...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't mind me, I'm just trying to cope with my shit in the most healthy way possible. 
> 
> Ginny is feral, and I'm not sorry for it. I would be too, feral, if I were the youngest sibling, only girl of her family. She knows how to fight and have some character. She doesn't like her friends messing themselves up. 
> 
> Marigold had some hard shit to unpack with her guardians/godfathers and she's getting there. 
> 
> Fulvia's situation will be unpacked as well, i just want to be patient and not rushing it. Also this chapter was supposed to end later than that but I was hitting the 10k so I cut it. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it! Leave a comment/constructive criticism/kudo, don't be shy ;)


	7. The girls are fighting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That's it! Their very first interaction! Finally!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Self-harm, slight bullying, depiction of violence both physical and verbal.

After ignoring her manager’s 13th call, she turned off her phone for good. The thought of Blaise worrying over her lack of answer if he were to text her crossed her mind.

Screw it, he would figure this one out. He had the second out of the three set of keys after all. She left her last cigarette burn off by itself in the ashtray and crawled under the covers of her bed to rest.

Her nerves were about to make her lose it and go batshit. She had no one/nothing to take it out on and it was even upsetting. She was working on controlling her emotions, but fuck, she had her own limit in these fucking trying times.

She didn’t want to think about last night, as Blaise had said, nothing happened. She knew some people saw them with McLaggen; she knew there would be words going around about it. She knew some people – the face of Crabbe and Goyle appeared behind her closed eyes – who wanted to protect her would become nosy and would make a fuss about it. She really needed not to think about it now, too bothersome in her opinion.

Then, she had let her manager down. So, what. She had done worse in the past few months. He would find something to make it work, she knew it. He always did. Else he could just break her contract and end everything, saying goodbye to her last steady financial support as a minor.

Fuck. She needed the money. Fuck. She needed to find a lawyer. Fuck. She needed to call her aunt. Fuck. She needed to get out of her life.

**[TW: Self-harm, cutting depiction]**

She let one arms slip out of the cocoon of her duvet, feeling around to find something to soothe her anger and to lash out once and for all without hurting anyone.

Well...

Her fingers stopped on a cardboard box still sealed with sellotape. So, _surely_ , she thought, there might be something to- _ah, yes, found it_.

She grabbed the retractable cutter knife lying on top of the box and brought her arm back under the covers.

She had discarded her hoodie on her way to her bed, only a large tee veiling her upper body now. She felt around on her left arm, caressed it. Her fingers stroked along the length, from the wrist up to her shoulder. Even if she couldn’t feel it, she remembered the exact part of her forearm where a snake was inked within her skin, Blaise having a matching one at the exact same place, hers being black and his being white.

That’s not what she focused on.

She did that motion back and forth for a while, being more insistent every time her fingertips came across the carved flesh of her inner arm. The warm spot being constantly protected over long sleeves and pressed flush against her ribcage, the view of it being as intimate as it sounded.

She grazed the blunt side of the blade above the specific area, shivering at the cool sudden contact, and gathered all the thoughts suffocating her for the past days, months, years. She didn’t know anymore, she just wanted the frustration to overflow her composure. It wasn’t hard. She felt like she had been on edge all her life anyway.

She began to shiver and soon it turned into violent tremors as she tried to abort her cries. Her left hand, strong with whitening knuckles, covering half of her face, mixing saliva and tears, in a way to attempt to muffle her whimpers was not enough. She felt pressure painfully gaining her head, her blood pounding.

She felt awful but knew it fuelled her anger and it would be easier to release it this way. Almost there. She repeated the last events behind her shut eyes, how of a handful she was, all the worry she provided her few loved ones with, how she was such a disappointment to her family, all the awful things she went through for most of her life, her father’s abuse on her younger self, how she wished it never happened, the way it would be better for her to just not be around anymore, permanently, but how she couldn’t bring herself to imagine the weeping faces of her loved ones after hearing about her death.

Her sobs were now howl-like desperate wails escaping from under the covers, echoing between the blank walls of her dark room.

She turned the blade around and sank it in the tender part of her arm she could have blindfolded aimed at. The hysteria gained her fuzzy mind and she no longer repressed anything, letting sheer anger take command of her unremitting surgical movements, swiftly enough to let her hand apply pressure in it.

The sensation it created felt as sweet mercy finally embracing her. She had missed this as she had avoided hurting herself around Blaise’s house. The burning of her skin ripping apart in fine lines giving her the adrenaline she craved for. First, flaring satisfaction followed shortly by the cold breeze her restless motions created. At this very moment, it was all she knew and all she needed to ever know.

Her skin burned, stung, even more when the blade explored again and again the fresh wounds.

She lost herself in the pain.

She lost track of time and space. How long had she been doing this for? She didn’t know, she didn’t care.

At some point, her voice got shakier and hoarser, her cries exhausting her vocal cords. Her breath was shallow and her head hurt even more than before if possible. She released her fist, letting the cutter knife escape on the mattress somewhere. She curled up on herself and concentrated on the burning sensation of her arm freshly butchered against the soft fabric of her tee absorbing the possible blood.

She hadn’t looked at her arm. She never did during those moments.

She would, eventually, once she’d shower or get dressed; the fleeting apparition of angry red striae on top of faded white ones.

She felt numb, letting herself get lulled by the new serenity in her mind and fell asleep ignoring the ringing stinging on her arm.

**[END OF THE TW]**

*

The first guitar chords of _Le vent nous portera_ resounded, awakening Marigold up from her slumber. She blindly looked for her phone with her hand to stop the alarm, somewhere under her pillow and grabbed her glasses before looking at the screen. As she processed her notifications, she heard rummage in the room with her and rose on her elbow to take in the view around her.

“Oh sorry, Mari, I’ve tried to be as silent as possible I didn’t want to wake you up, sorryyy.” Dean looked at her with an apologetic face, his hands clasped together.

“It’s okay, I’m waking up anyway, I didn’t hear you. You’re looking for something?” she indicated with her chin the way Dean was awkwardly standing over several piles of clothes and accessories out of Marigold’s chest.

Looking a bit to the left of the room, she noticed that Ginny and Luna were also here with the two of them, sitting on Hermione’s bed. Luna braiding Ginny’s hair while this latter looked at her phone, expressionless but for a slight reddish coloration around her cheeks.

Marigold didn’t acknowledge them and turned back to a Dean struggling with belts, mesh tops and harnesses, “Girl, that’s a mess, I can’t find anything, why is everything mixed together like that?” he seemed distraught and in a rush.

“Well, _I_ find the things _I_ look for in _my_ stuff, you know. Like an organised mess,” she knew he knew she was okay with him going through her things, but complaining about another person’s organisation was something else, “Are you late or something?”

“NO! Not at all! I just love to rummage randomly into people’s belongings and judge them for their tidying skills because you know I’m that bitch!” he deadpanned.

“Oh, well, if that’s the case then, suits yourself, hon.” Marigold motioned to wrap herself back up into her duvet.

“Oh COME ON! Come and help me you daft twat! You know I’m just messing about, help me, my shift starts in 45 minutes, it’s a major crisis and I can’t find the accessories to my ensemble because you’re the one who said we would share!” 

She got out of the comfy warmth of her bed and squatted down around the pile of mess Dean had made, “I’m not cleaning that up when we’re done.”

“Ugh, I know! I know! Just help me please!” his voice seemed tenser.

“What number is it anyway? What are you looking for?” she noticed he had just got out of his ballet classes as he still had his leg warmer. Some classes took place on the weekend as well.

“Here, look for the Loyalty number, the one with the tie and dye wings. You know, that wouldn’t be an issue if you let your stuff to the club. You even have your own room there! That would be so much easier,” he saw the annoyed glance of a recurring conversation passing in her eyes, “Or not, I’m just saying.”

“How was practice today, aren’t you going to be super sore and aching if you’re staging today?”

“Hm, practice was fine, even better now that this snake isn’t around.” He chuckled at his own mention of Malfoy, “I can’t believe she used to make everyone this anxious. Even the teacher was a lot more relaxed today. But I think, in her case, she’s just depressed to lose her little prima ballerina.”

“Here, that’s the first part. Do you want the glow in the dark glitter, let me look for it.”

“Yesss, thanks, babe. And like, I don’t know, even the bitchy girls from year 5 were not has bitchy. It’s frightening how much a single person can hold- ah thanks –the pressure in a room. I swear- oh do you have the same ones in purple and gold please? –I even heard some people laughing. Well, not laughing but- ah perfect, you’re a life saver, love –I’m sure they were chuckling at least, and I’ve never ever heard anybody chuckle in the studio.”

“Mm-hm. Do you have everything you need?”

“Oh, come on; don’t act as if you’re not interested.”

“What? I’m really not-” Marigold’s voice pitched higher, feigning offense.

“Really? Think you can fool me? I know you, girly. You do this thing with your tongue, and your eyes are way too sparkling to be uninterested.”

“Uh?! What thing with my tongue? That’s the first time I ever hear of that!”

“You do something like that,” Dean tipped his tongue out quickly and rolled it on his lower lip, bringing this latter with his tongue towards the inside of his mouth. Then he scraped his teeth against the same lip and released it slowly until it was back to being full again.”

Marigold’s face was distorted into an expression of fear and disgust, “Do I really do that? That’s so gross oh my god, I had no idea, ew, why didn’t you tell me sooner?? Why would you let me do that?!” 

“No, no I swear it’s like, cute on you, like maybe there’s less tongue or less teeth, or both, but it’s cute, really. Just well, it gives you away easily,” He was piling up all the things that he had taken out of the chest and once gathered he put everything back in the piece of furniture, “anyway, they started to talk to the ballet teacher and tried to find out why Malfoy was no longer signed up in the list club, they really pretended to care and to be deeply affected, those fake bastards.” He laughed at the memory.

Marigold didn’t want to admit the fact she was now more than interested in the rest of the story, but with Dean’s last remark she was too prideful to sound eager for the next part of his gossips. But as soon as he talked, she regretted not saying anything.

“Well, I’m gonna go, else I’ll be late. Becca’s gonna pick me up soon anyway.” He packed up his bag and stood up.

Marigold’s face scrunched in disapproval, “Ugh, Rebecca-May is picking you up? Why? Everybody literally loves you there, why does it have to be her?”

“Hey, back off now!” he scowled at her, “For one, you don’t work the same days as I do, so you won’t drive me. Second, I know you have beef against her, and I don’t know why since you won’t tell me, but she’s a delight to me okay? She’s the one who’s proposing every time!”

“And you don’t find it strange?”

“No, not really, because that’s what _friends_ do for each other, you know.”

“Oi, not my fault we don’t have the same schedule, okay?! And you’re friends with her now? I wouldn’t trust her with driving; you never know what she’s been do-”

“Oh because you’re any different?” his tone was light but he wouldn’t meet her eyes. Marigold knew it was because he had instantly regretted saying those words, knowing Ginny was in the room with them, as a silent spectator. Still, it hurt a bit, just a bit on top of everything else.

“Well, for instance, I’m not doing lines of coke on the toilet seat of a mall in the middle of the day when we go shopping for our next show.” She crossed her arms, more hurt than she would like to admit.

“Sorry, you know what I meant, it’s just, you won’t tell me what happened and I can’t understand why you’re so resentful of her and I’m your friend and-”

“Well, if you were my friend as much as you say, you’d trust me for my actions and beliefs, I don’t ask for a lot but really, I’m telling you this one last time, if you want what’s good for you, ditch her or you’ll regret it sooner or later.”

Both of them looked bitter now, refusing to meet each other glance.

The sound of a phone resonated, it was Dean’s. He took a look at it, “Ugh, whatever, I’m late. Thank you for letting me borrow your stuff, I’ll bring it back later.” He still avoided her eyes; she didn’t turn in his direction to meet his either.

He closed the door of Marigold’s dorm without a word.

He only left a cold silence after his departure. Well...

“Ouhhh, that was cold. Not his usual style. I mean, he wouldn’t talk like that to me, for sure.”

“Fuck off, Ginny. What do you want? If you keep the attitude up, I’m sure you can finally make your dream come true and make money as an official knob head.”

“Oh you know how I wouldn’t want to steal that spotlight of the family favourite dramatic child.” Ginny fluttered her eyelashes putting and angelic expression on her face, raising her eyes from her phone screen for the first time since Marigold had woken up. She noticed the tired look on Marigold’s face and changed the subject when after few seconds she understood that Marigold wouldn’t answer her last nasty barb, “You didn’t come at this afternoon practice.”

Ginny was a lot of things but she wouldn’t just erase Marigold from her family circle just because they fought.

“Oh, because I’m still wanted there? I thought I wasn’t good enough for you and couldn’t bother to show my face sorry, champ’”

Saying the room was freezing cold after that would be an understatement. Luna stepped in, trying to get some of the pressure down.

“Mari, I still have flowers. Can I do your hair?” she raised her hands holding wild flowers.

“Depends, I’d be honoured but I don’t want Ginny to throw a fit just because she wouldn’t want you to.”

“Shut up, Luna can do whatever she wants, I don’t own her.”

“Are you sure? That’s not what it looked like this morning. I know damn right the jumper wasn’t yours in the first place, still you got so aggressive.”

Luna interjected, “So, can I?”

“Yes, of course.” Both Ginny and Marigold answered.

Luna moved from behind Ginny and Marigold slipped from her bed to the floor so Luna would sit on her bed. Luna started to untangle Marigold’s hair and brush it her fingers.

“I- I don’t know what else to tell you for you to get how serious this is and how bad you’re getting. I mean, you’re not like three years ago, but still. You’ve been weird all summer. And now that we’re back to school, I don’t know. I thought you would, like, go back to be the old captain of the track team and show example to the new years and, yeah...”

“Oh yeah, don’t worry I didn’t miss your attitude towards me since we’re back to school. It would be hard to. It’s warming my heart to know I’ll be able to count on you in the hard moments though, thanks for being another voice of disapprobation in my head, Ginny, it means a lot to me.” She smiled warmly but her eyes remained cold.

“That’s a low blow.”

“Huh?!”

“You can’t tell me my frustration is not valid. You know how important this year is to me. You know university closely pay attention to the two last year of school and we’re even hosting the Athletic Events in spring! How can I stay composed and be fine with you when you’re,” she indicated vaguely with her hand towards Marigold on the floor, “like that!”

“Woah, thanks, big boost for my ego right now.”

“Oh come on, you know what I’m talking about.”

“I know, and I knew why you were acting like that. But I was expecting more from you, out of all people, to have the maturity to come talk to me instead of literally barking at me for two weeks straight!”

“I- You know it’s something I’m working on! Listen, I’m sorry, I was scared fir myself and I overreacted.”

“Don’t say that. I told you plenty of times; you never overreact, it’s just you gotta work on the communication skills afterwards reacting to the situation. I’m sorry and messed up and stressed you out, it’s just that right now, I’m... I don’t know. It’s hard.”

“I’ve noticed. And, you know you can talk to me, to us right?”

“Of course!”

“Okay...” Ginny knew better than insist even though it was obvious something was off about Marigold, “We’re good?”

“We’re good.”

**

The main door cracked open. She heard footsteps in the back of her mind, reminding her, for a reason she had forgotten, that she needed to curl up and hide. _It’s him, he’s coming for you. Quick._ She curled up on herself, bringing the covers above her head and letting herself be buried into the softness and warmth of her bed. She wanted it to swallow her, giving her the possibility to disappear. He would not find her.

Yet, she couldn’t break out of her sleep and open her eyes. She tried to sink some more.

Another door opened.

Her breath accelerated, her heart pounded louder and louder in her chest. She hoped she was thin enough not to be noticeable under her duvet. Her stomach ached, she could feel her body getting colder and colder with a wave of anxiety and adrenaline and yet the pearls of sweat wouldn’t stop rolling on her face and along her back, bringing shivers and goosebumps on her skin.

The door closed.

She was now fully awake but remained lost in the fog of her spiralling mind. _He’s here. No. Hide. Quick. Leave me alone. I’m innocent. Leave. Leave, please. Move. Hide. Move. Move. Move. Fuck you, move. MOVE. MO-_

A hand – _his hand_ – grabbed the hem of her duvet and removed it from her face. She was done for. _Not again, please._ She couldn’t help a whimper out of throat as she forcefully shut her eyes in anticipation.

“-ee?”

She couldn’t hear anything over the pounding of the blood in her ears.

“Vee? Fulvia? Are you all right?! What happened?”

_His_ hand tried to grab one of her wrists; she did her best to attempt and repress a shriek. She wouldn’t give _him_ this satisfaction. She thrashed around, she wanted to break free.

The hands, first, did their best to get her arms out of her face and then removed themselves completely. She could hear an apologetic voice repeating words and words but she remained trapped in the haze of her mind and couldn’t bring herself to open her eyes nor move from the foetal position her body seemed locked in.

The duvet was back above her head but she felt a fresh breeze sliding around her feet. She flinched. A warm hand gently curled around her – good – ankle, tracing soothing circles on her malleolus. The circles were following a rhythm, somewhere in the distance she could hear a repetition a words going round and round again.

She gradually gained more and more consciousness of her surroundings. The constant soft touch on her ankle grounded her back to reality, the buzzing in her ears faded down. She could hear a deep and soft voice repeating the same words and now they made sense, she could understand them.

“Breathe in for four, hold it for four and release it for four. Again, with me. Breathe in for four, hold it for four and release it for four. Breathe in for four, hold it for four and release it for four.”

She also recognised the voice belonging to her best friend, not _him_. She relaxed her body at this realisation. Blaise must have noticed the tension leaving her, “Fulvia? You’re back? Vee? Hey? What happened? Where did you go? Breathe in for four, hold it for four and release it for four. Come on, breathe in for four, hold it for four and release it for four.”

She did as he instructed. They both did.

Once she felt better she removed her duvet for good and met the worried face of her best friend, “Hey, good to have you back.” He smiled.

She tried a small smile back.

“Gosh, you’re sweating. Are you alright? I’m sorry, I should have known better. I- I can’t still realise that I can be a factor of danger to you I’m sorry, I love you. I’d never want to hurt you. I’m sorry _he_ was a piece of shit. I swear I’m gonna-” his voice broke and he averted his eyes.

She knew despite his usual calm composure around her during the last occurring events that happened to her, Blaise was in constant wrath mode. She could feel it every time their eyes met, in every motion he executed. He wanted revenge for her. He had sworn it to her _that_ night. He would kill any single soul attempting to harm her. And he would kill _him_.

She grabbed his hand and rubbed her thumb in circular motions in his palm. He met her eyes again and she knew what his gaze was trying to tell her.

“I’m gonna get better, I promise. I’ll take an appointment soon don’t worry,” she pulled at his hand and brought him in a strong embrace, “I know you’re here for as long as I need and the same goes for me. I’m here for you when you need me and as long as you want,” she whispered, “We’re immortal together.” She was facing the entangled snake on her arm and thought about his very own; their link through life and death, linked to their souls, their Ouroboros. 

They had gotten tattooed on her fifteen birthday. It was easy to hide. She thought about the marks on the very same arm but higher, _they_ were even easier to hide. Nobody had ever really noticed them and she intended to keep it this way.

“Hey, did you sleep with your ankle support? The physio told you not too. Ugh,” they separated and Blaise proceeded to remove the semi fabric/plastic/wire that covered her ankle and massage the bruised area for her, “it’s no gonna heal at this rhythm, and that’s a no-no.” He warmly smiled.

She avoided his eyes but returned his smile, “You can stay here, I’m just gonna shower, you’re right I sweated shit loads, haha.” She awkwardly got out of bed, rearranging her shirt over her frame, ignoring the flaring sensation of the fabric against her arm.

She was about to close her bathroom door when she caught Blaise’s worried eyes, “What?”

“Huh- nothing,” he smiled, “can I use your cigarettes? My pack is in my dorm.”

“Yeah, of course. You don’t even have to ask, and you know it. Are you sure everything is alright?” her breathing sped up, her mind re-enacted all the things she’s done since he was there in the room with her. Maybe he had seen her arm, maybe there was blood on the bed sheets and she hadn’t noticed?

“Nothing. It’s nothing.”Another soft smile.

“Ugh, stop smiling like that it’s creepy. Whatever.” She closed the door for good, discarded her clothes to enter the shower/bath and turned on the water valve to ‘hellish-very-hot-almost-scalding-skin-i-am-sure-we-can-blaunch-vegetables-at-this-point’ warmth.

She just sat there and waited for the tap to let the cold water turn to a comfortable enough temperature to be under. Then, she directed the shower head on herself and waited until the cold feeling in her bones faded for good.

When she got out of the bathroom, dried and changed, Blaise was out; she didn’t know how long she had spent in under the water but she knew he had other things to do.

She found a note under her phone by the window seat with her pack of cigarettes.

_‘Your aunt, Bellatrix, called as soon as I turned on your phone._

_I told her you were under the shower but she didn’t tell me what it was about._

_She just told me you have to call her back._

_I had to leave for the prefects’ reunion before my patrol tonight._

_I’ll tell them you couldn’t make it._

_You can join me tonight if you feel like it though._

_Just text me I’ll tell you what part of the castle I’m in._

_I left a plate on your desk. Please eat it._

_Blaise’_

She dropped the damp towel around her shoulders, picked up a warm pair of leggings and a jumper to put over her clean tee-shirt. She slipped back her ankle support and grabbed the water bottle beside a plate covered in foil.

By doing so, she caught sight of her hands. They were shaky, dry and seemed thinner than... few weeks ago by the way the several rings she wore now dangled a little around her fingers. She slept another guilty glance at the wrapped up food; she wasn’t hungry for now.

She went and sat back at the window seat, sipping from the bottle before dialling her aunt’s number as she lit up a cigarette and cracked the window open.

It rang once, twice. She took several puffs of her cig. It rang again and again. She hung up. Tried again. Lit up another cigarette. Hung up again. On the fourth try she finally reached the other end of the line.

“Hydra? Is it you sweetheart?”

“Hi, aunt Bella, yeah it’s me, _Hydra_.” She shivered as she pronounced her own name. 

“Hiya, honey! How are you doing! It’s been a while! I have so much to tell you, but you seem to have a lot to tell me as well, haha.” Her voice changed from enthusiastic to mischievous which had Fulvia lost for a minute.

“What? You heard about mothe-”

“Who was that boy on the phone? Did you hide you had a boyfriend?”

“Bella,” she sighed, “it’s _Blaise_. He’s not my boyfriend. Just my best friend, we already talked about it.”

“Well, you know... I’m sure his wealthy family would be more than happy to seal a contract with _our_ wealthy family, you know what I mean, right? It could be a good thing. What does his mother do again?”

“Bella, I’m not talking about that again. Did you get my message?”

“Okay, but I’m not dropping it yet. Yeah I got your message in the week. Sorry I didn’t call sooner. I was busy with other clients. So, what kind of advice do you need? Did you get in trouble with your fake ID? Did you get a STD? Don’t tell me you need me for coming with you to an abortion clinic because I swear I’ll fly back as soon as possible but please get an appointment ASAP, don’t wait for me-”

“Gosh, please, slow down! I’m- it’s nothing like that! I’m seventeen!”

“Your point?”

“Ugh, never mind. Listen, Bella, I’ll need you to be serious and discreet about it. You can tell neither my parents nor the rest of the family. Please, can I trust you? It’s really important.” She didn’t like how her voice turned into a suffering plea at the end of her sentence, although, maybe it’d help her to make her aunt understand how desperate she was.

“What’s wrong? Are you safe? Do you need money? I haven’t had any news from your mother in a while but I assumed everything was doing fine. Is it not the case?”

“I- I don’t know anymore. Listen, I really need you not to tell anything at all. Please, promise me that. Swear it. I can only tell you if you swear.”

“I don’t know what’s happening, but I swear I won’t tell anyone, sweetheart. Come on, tell me!”

“Okay, so hm. I don’t really know how to ask that. See, I have this _friend_ , and- and he’s in trouble. But I don’t want mother or father to know because they’d tell me to focus on my studies and shit. But it’s really important to me, aunt Bella.”

“Oh, okay. Is that friend Blaise? Is he okay right now.”

_Shit_

“No, no not at all. You don’t know him, but that’s not important. He is in trouble with his... parents actually. They- well, his father is hm- his father, I think we call that abuse? I’m not sure but-” she couldn’t help but choke on her words, her throat was so tight, she could feel her eyes tingling, “he’s suffering from his father’s mental abuse and phy- I think physical abuse, like domestic violence? I don’t know if it’s called like this-”

Her aunt remained silent until now, she cut Fulvia’s sentence with a cuss as she took in all the information.

Fulvia kept going, “Well, _he_ confessed to me and as I know you’re in communication with a lot of lawyers, I wondered if you knew someone to help us, him, out for this situation? What are the steps and the means needed?”

“I- I’m truly at loss of words for this one, my sweet, sweet little Hydra.”

“Sorry to drop this bomb on you out of nowhere.”

“No, no, don’t be silly. Thank you for reaching out to me and giving me your trust. It was a good thing to do, and I’m proud of you to want and help someone in such a difficult situation. That’s really honourable, Hydra. Although, you have to know, as a seventeen young girl, you won’t be able to do much by yourself, so, again, it’s a good thing you reached out. I’m genuinely proud of you.”

“I- thank you, aunt Bella.” She lit up yet another cigarette and mindlessly caressed her fresh wounds with her thumb nail as she crossed one arm over her knees pressing against her chest. She could feel the knot in her throat getting more and more suffocating but she needed to remain neutral in her tone. At this moment, it seemed to be the hardest thing in her life, tears pearling at the corner of her eyes, threatening to ruin her act.

“Of course, sweetheart. What ‘bout you? How do you feel?”

For a moment Fulvia got confused, fearing her aunt had seen right through her lie, “I- huh-”

“I mean, knowing that a dear friend of you is going through something like this, it must be quite hard to endure because you can’t do really anything to go back in time or change actively the situation for him. You just watch from afar, hoping for better time for him, right?”

Blaise’s face and worried eyes but soft smile flashed behind her eyelids as she had clutched her eyes, killing the whine that had came with her tears rolling down her cheeks. Somewhere in her mind, she knew she had still been in denial or in a form of denial at least. But, hearing her aunt saying things like that to her, reflecting the intentions of Blaise and others towards her was the last string.

“Hydra? Are you alright, love?”

“I’m- I’m scared, aunt Bella.” She hated how small and insignificant she sounded.

“It’s gonna be alright, love. You’re strong and you’re here for your friend. I’m sure that to him, it’s what counts the most.”

“It is. Thanks Bella.”

“Okay. Now, tell what kind of help you need.”

Fulvia took several deep breaths and swigs of water before speaking again, “I- He- We are looking for a petition for emancipation procedure and how to press charges for domestic abuse?”

***

“Looking up Naruto’s hand signs techniques is not a hobby.”

“You know what, I’m gonna pretend you didn’t say anything okay? I smell condescendence in your tone, and I’m not really sure you want to talk to me like that when you know one day I’ll destroy your ass with a fucking hand thunder pocket okay?! So, you better swallow back your venom, snake lady.”

“Mari! Defend me! Ron called me a snake lady! Mari?” Ginny clutched at her sleeve.

Marigold settled for shoving her earbuds further down her ears, hiding a smile as she tried to concentrate her attention back on her paper. Ginny gasped, falsely offended, “Hermione, you’re my last hope, please slap him for me, I’m too far and can’t even reach his spaghetti legs!”

“SPA-? Spaghetti legs??? Those legs won the fucking relays and long distances at last year athletic events you know, blimey! Be fucking respectful.”

“Language... I’d gladly do so but I’m too busy ignoring both of you, sorry.” Hermione took a bite of her food and looked away.

Ginny got more and more offended.

“You know what, ladies? If Seamus or Neville or even Dean were here, they would agree with me. It’s just so unfair I’m the only man here and-” he caught three pairs of eyes glaring at him, only Luna was too busy arranging and picking at her food.

The conversation – feud between the Weasley siblings – kept going on in the background but Marigold paid it no mind, she was focused on finishing her French homework she had put off for too long now and had no other choice but speed write it on this Sunday evening, at their dinner table.

“Hermione, did we talk about symbolism for the book in class? Can’t remember if Remus told us to actively describe our thoughts or to just finish with the conclusion in ouverture?”

“No, he said it was just to sum up the holiday reading work, so you just have to sum up as much as you like and then develop what you think is relevant and then you conclude any way you want. Also, could you proofread me afterwards?”

“Oh, okay thanks, I did too much, then, I think. Never mind,” she checked her texts on her phone, she lifted her head and smiled at Hermione, “Sure, I’ll just go and get my business done with Patil and Brown. You can leave it on my bed or my bed side table; I’ll read it before sleeping.”

“Cheers.”

“Oh, you’re going to the astrology tower? With Parvati and Lavender?”

“Yes, do you wanna come with me, Luna?” Marigold gave a safe glance to Ginny, checking her reaction after hearing the proposition, waiting to see what kind of mood she would be in.

The girl was still bickering with her brother, unbothered, but Marigold noticed that she was tenser than earlier. Luna took the girl’s hand , as if she knew she was eavesdropping, and received all of Ginny’s attention, “Do you want to go? It could be fun?”

Ginny fumbled with her words, “I, huh, sure? Are you done eating, though? We can go once you’re done with your dinner and we can pass by the dormitories and get your Sunday jumper, it’s gonna be chilly.”

“Oh, yeah I love my Sunday jumper. That would be great. Then, we will join you, Marigold.”

“Perfect, I’ll text them on my way there and tell them you’re coming by, also, I might not stay long, so check with them when they’ll leave, okay? I don’t want them to get caught with the prefects’ patrols.”

“Sounds good, thank you Marigold,” Luna was back at arranging her food, “If you want, you can give your wildflowers to Lavender, she’ll know how dry them properly.”

“Thanks, Luna,” Marigold smiled warmly; she had forgotten about her hair, all nicely tangled up with small colourful flowers that lit up her black locks. “Hermione, if you go back to the dorms first, could you put my paper on my bed as well, please?”

“ _Pas de problème_.”

“Noice! Thanks a lot, ‘Mione. I’m off then, good evening, guys.”

Marigold took off and discarded her tray. She was almost on her way out of the Great Wall.

_Ugh. Not again?!_

“Hey, Scarface... long time no see. Cute hair.” The snarky comment made her roll her eyes.

“See, Goyle, I’d love to exchange with you about the relativity of time because I’m sure I bumped into you few days ago, but unfortunately I have places to be. So, if you’ll excuse me...” she tried a polite smile.

Marigold tried to shove past Crabbe and Goyle, but their size differences might have been a slight factor on why they wouldn’t budge.

_I look like a fat shrimp between two big sharks. Sweet._

“Not so fast, four eyes-” Goyle roughly grabbed her arm.

“Oh! For the love of god, get fucking creative! I’m not even amused anymore.” She wouldn’t snap at them, she wouldn’t snap at them she wouldn’t sn-

“Watch your mouth or it might be the last time it works properly, Potter!”

“Bring it, Crabbe, we both know I’m asking for it, come on! Hit me! Next thing you know, imma help you to get all the intricate details of the mosaic on the floor.”

Crabbe stepped forwards but Goyle caught his arm, holding both of them now, and glared at her, “That would give her too much satisfaction...”

“AW, come on; don’t tell me you’re still bitter about how it ended in fifth year?”

“Seriously, shut the fuck up. Now that McLaggen isn’t around anymore, no one will protect you-”

_I swear, it would take only like, thirty seconds to both bitch slap them_.

“And I’m telling the truth when I say a lot of people want to see you bleed, you should’ve thought before letting your arrogant arse do and say whatever it pleases. Also, keep your boyfriend and your lot out of Fulvia’s business; else, you’ll regret it.”

“You said it yourself, I have no longer anything to do with him, he can do whatever he wants and you can take care of him how you please.” She almost spit these last words. “Does Malfoy know you call her that by the way?” she gave her most arrogant smile; she showed that she knew what place they held in Malfoy’s circle.

“Mind your own bloody business, Potter.” Both of them shoved past her and she had to take few steps backwards which had them snickering.

_I swear the next person is on._

She tried to focus and on the good energies surrounding her, just as Lavender had told her so many times, but couldn’t find any. She still tried to breathe in and out, making her way to the astrology tower. She breathed in. Patil would read her next week predictions and give her a stone to carry around for the week, she would have the smoke session of her life with the new breed she just got back with Neville and everything would be soooo fine.

She breathed out.

She had just a few meters left of walking in the main corridor, and then she would take several turns and arrive in front of the steps leading to the astronomy tower. Her phone buzzed. She took a quick glance, willing to ignore anybody that it could be right now.

Not one text but three, actually.

She saw the name _Moony_ appear on her screen and she interrupted both her thoughts and her walk to unlock and read the text. Surely, it would be about their fight the other day, he still felt guilty and maybe wanted to tell her how sorry he was. Right?!

[7:46PM] **Moony ☾ :** Where are you?

[7:46PM] **:** We need to talk.

[7:47PM] **:** It’s about Sirius.

Her heart stopped on the spot. Her breath stopped as well. She could almost swear time stopped as well.

_This is it. It’s happening._

She felt nothing, numbness swallowing her. She was frozen in place, and so were her surroundings. Or so she thought.

**[TW: Depiction of physical and verbal violence]**

Something, reality she thought at first, collided with her body. It happened quickly, harshly, suddenly. One minute she remained still, her feet stuck on the corridor cobblestones, the next, her phone flew on the ground and she had a hard time maintaining her balance as she was forced to take several steps back due to the shock.

As well as the realisation she took in that it was an actual human being that had crashed into her, the surge of her repressed confused – but strong – emotions she had dragged along for the whole week, the whole summer washed away everything in her just like a wave of lava would roll over a peaceful island.

She didn’t have the time to look up from the ground and let out her fury that the other person spoke first, “Oh you gotta be fucking kidding me, you again, Potter?! Weird hair, haha. Listen I’m tired of you following me around, thundercunt, get a fucking life and grow u-”

Marigold grabbed Malfoy’s collar with two angry fists and yanked the girl’s face towards hers, “Oh no you fucking slag, you don’t, first you come back and spoil my last school year when I thought I would be free from you and then your bitch in heat of a friend dare spit on my face, and then you make some drama with my ex boyfriend when we already broke up because of your fucking arse in the first place and everybody is talking behind my back after yesterday night, and then your horrendous minions threaten me to leave you alone where it’s you who keep knocking me on the floor. You fucking cunt I swear you better shut your mouth-”

Malfoy, who had been taken aback until now in front of such a disproportionate reaction to their casual bumping into each other, leaned in and twisted her face into a threatening smile, “Or what, what you gonna do? Nothing, you’re too afraid your little favourite professor Lupin will tell you off. What a pair of lunatics you both are, just need to see who he’s married to, to understand something is clearly wrong with him and then you came along and they had to raise you. Poor all of you, that’s why, personally, I don’t blame you too hard for your foul words; you’re just coming from the wrong side of the Black family. Sorry we don’t share the good things with the plebe.”

“You stupid skank ass bitch, take that back right now!” Marigold tried slamming her in the nearest wall. Unfortunately for her, they were pretty close to this very wall in the first place so the impact was nothing as brutal as she had expected. On the other hand, Malfoy took the situation to her advantage and inversed their position with all the might she could with her bad ankle and a loud thud reasoned in the empty corridor as Marigold’s skull connected with the stone wall.

“Oh, so I’m the skank,” Malfoy slammed her knee into Marigold’s guts who hunched over under the sudden pain and let go of Malfoy’s collar, “and who’s got the biggest cumdumpster reputation in the castle, then?”

Marigold crossed her arms over her stomach, coughing as Malfoy, heaving, took several steps back, “I can only think about your friend, Pansyphilis, for that one,” she just regained a bit of stamina and dived on Malfoy, her face livid with anger, “You fucking frigid virgin Satan, you’re right,” after tackling Malfoy to the ground and straddling her, Marigold hammered her punches after punches,

“You’ll die not knowing what a dick look like. A shame for your dear father and his empire, your name’s ending with you.” She kept aiming at Malfoy’s face, as hard as she could even though a protection of arms block its access, “Or maybe I’m wrong, maybe he prefers them young and with a pure blood, way to keep it familial at home, am I right? You might enjoy yourself a lot with your daddy, huh?”

Malfoy stopped protecting her face out of shock and got hit by one of Marigold’s punches before she could grab at her hair and then slammed their foreheads together. She then took Marigold’s arms and rolled them both over before the girl could try anything, so she was the one hovering over her and she pushed Marigold’s head as hard as she could against the stone floor, her eyes rolling back under the sudden shock, Malfoy felt something hot spreading on the left side of her own face,

“You take that back immediately or I swear I’m killing you on the spot,” with the coldest tone she had ever used she now threw punches after punches, sometimes hitting the floor as Marigold tried to dodge the blows, “I said, take,” a punch, “that,” another punch, “back,” yet another punch.

There was an eccentric satisfaction to get to see the old Malfoy back to her incensed self, finally responding to Marigold’s provocations as she used to, not pretending to be too good to show this side of her anymore. The familiar fuzzy feeling of savagery breaking free after layers and layers of frustration meeting the same wave of wrath, colliding together into sheer chaos and unhinged violence.

“You take back what you said about Remus and Sirius first!” Marigold bit her forearm and Malfoy screamed under the surprise, smacking Marigold’s face and making her glasses fly away.

Their position changed again and Marigold was back on top, Malfoy’s arms still between her teeth and her hands around the girl’s throat. Malfoy tried to back away from the hindrance pushing Marigold’s face away from her forearm, panting for air.

Her vision became darker and blurrier, her perceptions stumbling over each other, alien voices entering her mind but refusing to make sense. She once again slammed their foreheads together finally breaking free from the bite and giving her time to regain the control of her thought.

Just as they were both about to punch each other, two arms stopped them, “ENOUGH!”

**[END OF THE TW]**

The voice was strong on the intention but the panting following it indicated that the person it belonged to had had to run to physically interrupt their aggressive scuffle.

Fulvia was too exhausted and disoriented to notice that Potter had froze on the spot, not putting a fight to break free.

Fulvia settled herself to get her breathing back to normal, her hand swiping away the sweat on her face. It didn’t feel like sweat on her hand, she knew this sensation too well. Her eyes stopped on her bloody fingers, she was trying to listen to her body and understand where it was coming from. Her body answered to her back and brought a sudden ringing pain on her eyebrow and in her nose. Her bad ankle made her wince as well, she might have had twisted it again somehow even though the ankle support was still there.

_Shit._

Fulvia could hear a distant conversation happening, but something was off. She couldn’t concentrate on the spiteful words.

When her vision got steadier, she took in the dark corridors they were in, flowers catered all over the place, Potter mirroring her position, clearly exhausted on the floor, her bottom lip busted and the bridge of her nose swollen, both bleeding. She was having a heated conversation with someone but it seemed blurry in the way Fulvia couldn’t grasp anything tangible to help her understand what situation they were in.

She took a look on her left, where her arm was still being held by a hand. Said hand connected to a man’s arm and said man was none other than Professor Lupin,

_Ah, right, French._

The French and Latin Teacher, Potter’s guardian. This latter information she wasn’t supposed to know.

« _Je te jure Moony, c’est elle qui a commencé ! J’l’aurais pas frappée si j’avais pas une bonne raison. »_

_« Il n’y a jamais de bonne raison pour se battre avec quelqu’un et tu le sais. Comment est –ce que je suis sensé gérer ça moi, hein ?! Imagine si ça avait été un autre professeur qui vous auriez trouvées ?! Tu veux te faire renvoyer, c’est ça ? »_

_« Non, je te jure ! Tu sais très bien que non ! »_

_« Alors agis comme tel ! La discussion est close pour l’instant. Est-ce que tu peux te relever toute seule ? »_

_« Mais- »_

_« Pas de mais ! Est-ce que tu peux te relever toute seule, oui ou non ? »_

_« Oui. »_

The professor took a deep breath finally releasing Potter’s arm, he concentrated on Fulvia now, crouching without inviding her personal space, “Are you okay, Miss Malfoy?” His face implied ‘as okay as you can be after beating each other’s faces, “Can you walk?”

She just nodded in confirmation?

“Great, you’re both coming with me to Madam Pomfrey. Do you need a hand to get up?”

Over her dead body.

“No, thank you.” She got up as graciously as she could, adjusting and brushing her clothes off. She saw Potter in the corner of her eyes picking up both her glasses and her phone before attempting to untangle her fur of a hair where the flowers had fallen. She couldn’t put her glasses back for now, the bridge of her nose was still bleeding.

All three of them awkwardly headed for the infirmary wing without a word while Potter and Professor Lupin limited themselves to exchange death glares.

Once there, Professor Lupin opened the door and indicated the room with his chin, meekly suggesting for them to go in, which they did.

Fulvia had never seen Potter this humble and quiet before. Even during that time when she got suspended for a week after ruining something on the school sport fields – well it hadn’t been her fault alone but she had taken the full responsibility for her team and the professors were fine with that – it was really something else to see her this calm.

“You are going to both wash your hands thoroughly and then you will tend to each other’s wounds, is that clear? I don’t want any complaints or tentative to hurt each other.”

It was also the first time for Fulvia to hear such a cold voice from her Latin Professor who was usually more eager to smile and comfort his students with gentle speeches. She saw that Potter didn’t put up a fight and went to wash her hands, so Fulvia did the same. 

The heavy silence was humiliating enough as they began to sanitise each other’s injuries, their professor was posted somewhere around the entrance, his presence not threatening in the slightest which Fulvia appreciated.

Potter went first and dabbed at Fulvia eyebrow, with more strength than it was necessary and made her flinch and wince.

“Mari!”

“Sorry, didn’t mean it,” she impishly answered to which the professor deeply sighed in disapprobation.

She proceeded to clean the small wound pretty gently but had to step closer has she still hadn’t put her glasses back on. Fulvia tensed as she could feel Potter’s breath on her face. She then wiped off the smeared blood coming from Fulvia’s nose, “There! Perfect enough to do the Vogue cover, princess,” she grabbed Fulvia’s hands to clean the bloody knuckles next.

Until Fulvia was done with Potter’s, they didn’t exchange words, not meeting each other’s eyes. The girl would clearly need a few days before wearing her glasses; the flesh was only shallowly damaged but remained sensible enough that it would need fresh air to heal properly.

She tried to be as gentle as she could bring herself to be, a busted lip was always a pain in the arse until it healed, for each single everyday thing would be painful. No more speaking, nor eating, nor sleeping, nor showering or else normally until the scar would disappear. 

They went back to their professor after cleaning up after themselves.

“Are you both done?”

They nodded. 

“My office, now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> /!\ I'm not trying to romanticise depression or self-arm in the slightest, nor chain chain smoking. Smoking, drinking and other substances are harmful for the body and the mind and can lead to addiction. /!\
> 
> EDIT: neither I’m glorifying violence, I just happen to have a lot of repressed anger but I actually cry when ppl start fighting...
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter, i'm so glad I could finally have them interact together. What's more romantic than reading about girls destroying each other's faces for the Valentine's day ;) 
> 
> If you have any question or suggestion or disagreements, hmu on tumblr @ox6moron  
> Leave a comment or a kudo if you want! :) thank you for sticking with me!


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